


Lottery Ticket

by Cryptographic_Delurk



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Bisexuality, F/M, Gen, M/M, Money & Employment, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Social Class
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-19 13:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 113,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7362772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Joey accepts a job offer from Seto Kaiba in an attempt to gain greater financial independence in the context of his relationship with Mai.</p><p>This blows up in his face spectacularly.</p><p>Or, despite his many attempts, Joey is never, ever, going to purchase a winning lotto scratcher.<br/><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hangover, Mimosa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’d like some more general information before you start, please skip to the endnotes.
> 
> Otherwise, Read & Relax. Don’t Drink & Drive.  
>   
> 

The flashing red symbols were the first thing he saw, when his eyes blinked open. He squinted, trying to place the wetness on his cheek, the feel of whatever was sliding against his skin, and the light throb in his forehead. And then the symbols focussed, revealing flashing red numbers of the clock on the nightstand.

 _Man, I hate hotels,_ Joey thought.

Oh, they were a great place to fall asleep. The rooms were comfortable and clean, and they sure as hell never forgot to pay the electric bill and had the power shut off.

But for all that the pillows were fluffy, and the comforter was warm, and the sheets were probably fifty thousand thread-count Egyptian cotton or whatever… For all that the space itself (to say nothing of the companionship) was superior to Joey’s hole-in-the-wall apartment…

Hotels were uncomfortable. It was just how they were. And Joey found himself momentarily wishing that his eyes had blinked open to puzzle pieces, strewn over Yuugi’s bedroom floor at the Kame Game Shop, or even his father’s broken sake bottles. Anything to escape the split second of vulnerability that came with not recognising where you were.

The moment passed.

Joey yawned and wiped the drool off his cheek. He glanced briefly over his shoulder, long enough to determine Mai wasn’t there, before turning back to the clock.

He could hear the shower running. He pulled the sheets higher up over his shoulder and rubbed his crotch idly with one hand. He’d woken up hard.

He blinked at the clock. And the clock blinked back. _8:26_.

When it changed to _8:27_ he decided to do something.

He pulled the sheets around himself, as he sat up. He felt vaguely self-conscious about his nudity.

_Don’t be stupid. Whaddaya have to be modest about?_

He shrugged off the sheets as he stood and walked over to the bathroom door. He hesitated only briefly before opening it.

“Hey, Mai…” he began, peering his head in through the door.

“Hmm?” Mai hummed at him. Only her silhouette was visible on this side of the shower door.

“Uh-”

 _Don’t start talking shop talk first thing_ , he had to remind himself.

He caught his hand halfway to his crotch again.

“Mornin’, Mai,” he chirped.

“Good morning,” she agreed. She paused a moment, basking in the steam of the shower, before she continued. “Sorry I didn’t wake you. I thought I’d let you sleep a bit longer.”

“No prob,” Joey said, although he would’ve preferred if Mai had woken him with a kiss, of one kind or another. The thought made him blush.

“But, uh- I have to be at work by noon,” he added quickly, in an attempt to stay on topic.

“I’ll drop you off,” Mai assured. “It may have to be a bit early, though. I have to be at the airport by twelve thirty.”

“Sounds good,” Joey agreed. “So, uh-”

Mai slid open the shower door.  The water from the showerhead ran down her hair and over her skin. Joey watched it fall down her figure. He appreciated the way the sun-kissed quality of her skin faded pale and then back again as his eyes passed down her collarbone, over her breasts, then to her navel. The way her hair curled over the nape of her neck and up over her shoulder… The way her flesh sagged only enough to give it a tangible bearing and weight…

_Damn, it was a nice expanse of skin._

Mai raised an eyebrow at him.

“Morning wood?” she asked rhetorically. “C’mon. Get in. I’ll help you wash off,” she said, trying to sound flippant.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Joey lied, as he bolted the rest of the way into the bathroom and grabbed the complementary bar of soap off the sink.

…

They ended up dawdling in the shower, long after they finished fooling around. They washed each other’s hair and, afterwards, they pretended the hairdryers were guns and had an armed standoff while they were drying off. Joey ran his hand through Mai’s damp hair, and wondered if he had played similar games with Serenity after their baths when they were little.

By the time Mai gathered her things and they had moved down to the lobby, it was nearly ten o’clock. Mai returned the key card and settled the bill at the counter, and Joey stood to the side and hoped they hadn’t been hit with a late check-out fee or something. These hotels were ruthless, and never hesitated before piling on extra expenses.

_Extra expenses Mai would end up paying for._

Joey frowned. Well, it wasn’t as if he could invite her over to his place, with his father hanging around. And it wasn’t as if he could tell Mai to stay somewhere cheaper.

_Or to stay at all._

“Let’s go!” Mai had apparently finished her business at the counter. She adjusted her Gucci sunglasses, perched atop her forehead, and grabbed Joey’s hand, wheeling him along behind her along with her luggage.

It was ten o’ five when Mai pulled her convertible out of the hotel’s parking structure. Joey sat in the passenger seat and fiddled with the radio. He couldn’t find anything interesting, and ended up turning it off.

“Ugh, my head hurts,” he groaned, shaking his head. “I think I have a hangover.”

“You had two glasses of wine, Joey,” Mai laughed. “You don’t have a hangover.”

“I could have a hangover,” Joey pouted, crossing his arms. “I’ve got no experience drinking. My tolerance could be really low.” _I’m not like my father._

Without looking away from the road, Mai reached over and pulled Joey’s hand out. She laid it lightly over her own hand, as she laid it over the gear shift.

“You’re not like your father,” she reassured. “But you don’t have a hangover.”

Joey relaxed.

“Come get breakfast with me!” Mai announced, flipping her turning signal and changing lanes at the last minute.

“Uh, Mai, it’s already ten fifteen. I gotta get to work,” Joey protested weakly.

“Just really quick.” Mai drove a couple of blocks down towards the seafront, and swung into a driveway with valet parking. “It’s my last day in town~ Don’t make me get breakfast by myself~” she pouted.

The place was unbelievably fancy, and the head waiter guy gave Joey’s scruffy jeans and shoes a critical look, before Mai shuffled under his arm and gave the maître d' a pointed look, at which point they were led to a secluded corner of the restaurant, with an ocean view.

Joey looked at the menu and cringed. All the dishes had names in English. (Or French. He wasn’t sure.) But he could understand the prices just fine. A single order would cost as much as a full day’s work at the warehouse.

Mai snickered when she saw his expression, and reached across the table to cover the prices on his menu with her hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Joey. Since I dragged you here, I’ve got you covered. Order whatever you like.”

Joey frowned. “Isn’t the guy supposed to be the one saying stuff like this?” he protested. “I remember when I first met you, you’d hardly shut up about the prize money at Duellist Kingdom, and snagging some rich guy to foot your bills.”

Mai propped her elbow up on the table and tapped her fingernails against her cheek.

“Well, I guess you’ve got a completely different appeal,” she said, smiling wryly.

“Oh yeah?” Joey said, allowing himself to smirk back at her. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mai announced, shaking her head. “Youth. Energy. Something like that.”

Joey couldn’t help feel a little put out by that, but the waiter came to take their order before it could become an issue.

Mai ended up ordering for him. French toast with some kind of berries, and something that tasted like a better version of orange soda. It was, quite frankly, exactly to his taste, and it bothered him a little that Mai knew him so well.

He took another drink of the orange soda and swished it around in his mouth.

“It should take the edge off your hangover,” Mai said. She had ordered an identical drink for herself, and took a sip.

Joey swallowed.

“I thought you said I didn’t have a hangover,” he protested, as he set the glass down on the table.

“You probably don’t,” Mai agreed. She downed half her drink and poured the rest in Joey’s glass.

“Hey, why aren’t you drinking all of yours?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Because I’m driving,” Mai said, without further explanation. She shuffled the omelette back and forth on her plate with her fork, before abandoning it to rifle through her purse.

“You got your deck with you?” Joey asked. “Is it all ready to go?”

“Of course! Everything’s ready to go. I _am_ a professional after all!” Mai said, drawing the cards out and pulling them from their holder. “But I’ll probably end up rearranging things another fifty times before the first match.” She smiled.

“Yeah,” Joey laughed. “Stop trying to take Dramatic Rescue out of your deck. Ya know you always switch it back in at the last moment.”

“It makes the rescue even more dramatic, when I know I almost switched it out for another card,” Mai joked.

They flipped through the cards and talked strategy and, when they finally made it back to the car, it was past eleven and traffic was completely stalled.

“Shit,” Mai cursed, as she adjusted her sunglasses on her forehead and leaned back into the driver’s seat. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard and bit her lip, but said nothing more.

Joey followed her eyes to the clock, and then glanced out at the traffic in the oncoming intersection. Cars were inching along in all four directions. Work started at noon.

They might be able to make it in time, but the airport was in the opposite direction. If she dropped him off, it was more than likely she wouldn’t make her flight in time.

“Hey,” Joey said, in a tone he meant to be comforting, “why don’t you drop me off on the next block, Mai. I can take the metro. Or call a cab.”

Mai huffed. “Don’t be silly, Jou,” she protested. “I told you I’d drive you to work. And, besides, it was my fault we got held up.”

There was a tremor of doubt in her voice though, that made it easy for Joey to say what he said next.

“If I hurry, I can probably still make it on time,” he lied. And when Mai looked at him, unsure, he smiled. “C’mon, Mai, you’ve got a tournament to go win! Ya don’t have time to be worrying about anythin’ else.”

Mai hesitated, but she drove her car across the intersection and pulled over to the sidewalk.

“Take care of yourself while I’m gone,” Mai said, leaning across the divide towards the passenger seat, to kiss Joey on the cheek. “And remember I’m going to visit my parents afterwards,” she grumbled, “so I won’t get to drop by again for a while even after they announce the tournament winner…”

“Don’t sweat it, Mai,” Joey said, undoing his seatbelt and turning towards her. “Have fun in Australia. I know you’ll do good in the tournament! And I’m sure you’re more than a match for anything your folks can throw at you.”

“New Zealand, not Australia,” Mai corrected absently.

She paused, before leaning forward again, to kiss him on the lips this time.

Joey leaned back into her, and momentarily forgot to be properly embarrassed by such a public display of affection. Mai had that effect on him.

Mai broke away from him first. She patted his forearm awkwardly and smirked, as she gestured to the door.

 _I’ll miss you_ , Joey thought. But he didn’t want to sound desperate, so instead he just opened his door and climbed out onto the sidewalk.

“See you later, Joey!” Mai called, as she flipped her turning signal and inched her car out towards the street.

“See you when you get back!” Joey called back. He lifted an arm to wave her off, but she didn’t look back at him as she pulled out into the too slow traffic.

Joey watched her go, and then finally allowed himself to sigh.

He hunched his shoulders and pulled his cellphone out from pants pockets, scrolling through the contacts until he found his supervisor’s number.

_Damn, his head hurt._

He sighed again, pinching his forehead in his fingers, before pressing dial.

She picked up after only two rings.

“Yoooooko-chaaan,” Joey trilled, laughing nervously.

“Save it,” Youko replied. “It’s still forty minutes before your shift, so the fact that you’re bugging me now can only mean one thing.”

“Eh, heh~” Joey felt himself wilt. “Something came up, and my ride had to bail on me-”

“I said save it,” Youko snapped. “How late are you going to be this time?”

“Er… depends on where I am, and how quickly I can find the metro connection.” Joey looked around. He knew he was on the coast, somewhere considerably north of the wharf district, in the more hoity-toity part of town, but the details of where eluded him.

A mother and daughter passed him on the street, all dolled up in fancy sundresses, and Joey doubted they had ever stooped to taking the metro in their life.

“You know what, Jou? Just forget it,” Youko said. “I’ve got enough to deal with today without worrying about your face.” The phone shifted, and Joey could hear the sound of rattling boards on the other side of the line.

“…I’ll see if I can get Daisuke to cover your shift,” Youko continued. “But this is the last time, okay?! I’m sick of the excuses and the last minute emergencies. If you’re late even one more time, you can go find a job somewhere else!”

“Thanks, Youko-chan! I owe ya one!” Joey beamed into the phone, and Youko offered him only the curtest of replies before cutting the call.

Joey sighed again, as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Great, his job was now a ticking time bomb. Last minute emergencies were practically a staple of life.

Still, he’d lost… six thousand yen… maybe… by skipping out on work today. Where it would have cost Mai a hundred thousand yen to book another plane ticket, at the very least. And there was even more money at stake in the tournament, itself. She couldn’t afford to risk arriving late.

_And Joey could… apparently…_

Joey had once fostered dreams of becoming a pro-duellist, before that fell through.

Mai had told him it was about skill, but not just about skill. You had to have a face that would sell trading cards. And bath products. And the packaged sweets they sold in bulk at the supermarket.

Joey had responded that it wasn’t her face that was doing the selling, and let his gaze drop pointedly to her behind.

Mai had slapped him hard on the shoulder for that. And Joey had slapped her back, quite a bit softer. And it went back and forth and back and forth, until their play fight turned into gropes and kisses.

There was more to pro-duelling than that, but Joey didn’t like to think about it. He somehow felt angry and betrayed, but none of it was Mai’s fault.

He didn’t like to think about it.

Instead, he focussed on getting back home.

Lacking the familiarity needed to orient himself to the local metro lines, he traced his way southwest to the industrial district. The blue line zigzagged its way through the factories, and Joey was more than familiar with it, between all the times he’d been forced there searching to drag his absent father back home, and the times he’d once gone willingly to prowl the streets with Hirutani.

Right now though, he was stuck in the beach city promenades, curving along between shoppers and tourists, in front of boutiques and art galleries. And Joey tried increasingly to ignore just how shabby his clothes were and just how sloppy his gait was.

His headache, or hangover or whatever, hadn’t subsided – its dull pulsing a constant pressure on his temple. So, by the time he’d made it halfway to where he intended to catch the metro, near the southeastern tip of the financial district, he was glad to see a familiar fixture in the form of a local Family Mart.

Already, it was nothing like any Family Mart Joey had ever graced with his presence. There was a fountain and a tiled walkway in its courtyard. And its security cameras were so well-hidden, it took Joey several passes to locate them under the building’s awning, hidden behind an exotic selection of hanging green plants.

The inside of the store was coloured in a soft bronze, immaculately clean, and unusually spacious – with long, wide aisles. A quick survey of the merchandise in its front display revealed an unusually large selection of souvenir chocolate. But, otherwise, it was the same old crap Joey was used to seeing, only at double the price – for no discernible reason except that the people here would _pay_ double the price.

Joey shook his head, but he let his feet carry him further inside. The soft purr and cold breeze of the air conditioner was a welcome change from the dry heat of the sun. And the aisles were arranged in the same comforting way as usual so, without even really thinking about it, Joey made his way halfway down the third aisle to where the painkillers were located.

He flipped his hand over the selection and unhooked an individually packed dose of aspirin. The tablets fit easily against his palm, and the price was ridiculously inflated, but not so high that Joey couldn’t pay it.

From there, Joey skipped around to the snacks in isle two. He considered the chewy melon candy and a bag of crab-flavoured chips, before he came around to the Pocky. He was flitting between original, choco-banana, and almond – intentionally dragging out the decision process and prolonging his time under the cool force of the AC – when he glanced over the partition of lined goods into the next isle.

He looked back down and decided suddenly on choco-banana, before it hit him, and his eyes shot back up again – diagonally across to the next isle.

Joey remembered the last time he had seen Kaiba, glancing briefly away from his friends to the back of the assembly hall during graduation, where Kaiba sat in his school uniform, legs crossed. He had refused to give a speech despite having the highest grades in their year. And then there were those times Kaiba’s image had been caught on the television screen, as part of some bid for publicity or news report, and had floated by in the periphery of Joey’s vision as he attended to business far more pressing. But Kaiba’s appearances there had seemed fake and unreal, and had left so little an impression on Joey as to be non-existent.

But Kaiba was, right _here_ , right _now_ , on the first aisle of Family Mart, strictly studying the selection of energy drinks from the look of things. And his presence struck Joey with an amount of familiarity and nostalgia and poorly-conceptualised _dislike_ that seemed nothing if not significant. Kaiba looked exactly the same as Joey remembered, right down to the stiff box-like haircut and the dark overlarge trench coat, as if he had stepped out of Joey’s mind’s eye rather than out of anywhere real. His skin was as deathly pale, his eyes as bright and cold, and his features as fine and pristine. And he had the same scrawny and freakishly tall build, which made Joey realise Kaiba _couldn’t_ have been _exactly_ the same. Because Joey had grown a fair number of centimetres in the last few years, and Kaiba still loomed unacceptably higher, like a statue – unbalanced and ready to topple.

And it was strange that Kaiba was here. It was _weird_. But the kind of weird Joey was familiar with.  A kind of weird and not-quite-fortuitous coincidence, one of many that had blossomed around his life after he had befriended Yuugi.

_I should go say hi._

Joey hesitated. Because it was Kaiba.

He shuffled briefly as he plucked the choco-banana Pocky off the shelf.

 _What the hell,_ he decided. _We were in Egypt together. We saved the_ world _together._

Joey ran up to the front of aisle two, and then ducked around the corner, sliding up next to Kaiba.

“Hey, Kai-”

“Don’t call me by name.” Kaiba cut him off before he had even finished his greeting. He didn’t even look at Joey, only continued perusing the energy drinks.

“Eh? What’s the big deal?” Joey deflated.

“We’re in public,” Kaiba explained, “and my name is rather recognisable.”

Joey looked around. There were no more than three other people in the store, all of which were congregated around the cash register.

“Paranoid much, moneybags?” Joey snickered. “Anyhow, is that any way to greet an old pal?”

Kaiba frowned at the energy drinks. He picked one off the rack and squinted at the label.

Joey watched him, as the silence dragged out for a long moment. Kaiba slid the drink back onto the rack. He still hadn’t looked at Joey, and Joey was beginning to wonder if Kaiba hadn’t recognised him at all.

And then Kaiba finally spit out a response.

“What do you _want_ , Wheeler?”

Joey felt himself relax.

_What did he want?_

A driver’s licence. His own apartment. For Mai to stay in Domino City with him. For Yuugi to be less busy with studying all the time. For Honda and his sister to get along. For Anzu to return his calls at a decent hour instead of in the middle of the work day or the middle of the night.

 _What did he want from Kaiba?_ …Nothing.

“Uh…” Joey looked down at his hands for answers. “I want an aspirin and a box of Pocky?”

“Fine!” Kaiba swiped the tablets and the Pocky out of his hands. “If I buy these for you, you’ll _go away_! Right, Wheeler?!”

“The hell?!” Joey protested. He shoved against Kaiba’s shin with his foot and pried the items back out of his hands.

For the first time since they had run into each other, Kaiba blinked, and his eyes actually focussed on Joey.

“I don’t need _you_ to pay for them, moneybags!” Joey protested. “I came in here to get them _myself_! Why else would I be in a convenience store?!”

Kaiba tensed and looked away. The movement was a little too stiff.

“What?! You think I only came over here to bother you?! Or to get you to pay for my stuff?!” Joey frowned, aware that he was talking at least partly to Mai.

Kaiba’s left eye twitched, almost imperceptibly. He didn’t say anything, only raised his hand to hover over the energy drinks once more.

It occurred to Joey that Kaiba probably really _had_ thought that – that Joey was only there to bum money and cause trouble. And it would have been insulting, if it hadn’t been so depressingly _pathetic_.

Joey groaned. He wanted to leave, but he suddenly felt exhausted. His feet were stuck.

“It’s been four years since I last saw ya. Five since we said anything more than greetings.”

“Well, I’d hate to break our record,” Kaiba snipped.

Joey rolled his eyes at that. His head hurt.

“I just didn’t think I’d run in to you here, Kai-”

Kaiba cut him off with a glare.

_Right, no names._

Kaiba seemed uninclined to say more. And Joey waited impatiently, before he threw his hands up in frustration.

“What are you even doing here?!” he exclaimed. “I mean, I’m never over here in this part of town- And the one day I am I run into you. In a _convenience_ store! Don’t ya have servants and stuff to send off for this kind of stuff?!” He crossed his arms behind his head.

Still, Kaiba said nothing – seemingly content to ignore Joey indefinitely in favour of the energy drinks.

 _I should just leave_ , Joey thought. _Kaiba’s as much of a jerk as always._

And he really did, or he started to anyway. He turned and walked towards the register.

But, in a moment of weakness or, more likely, perception, he turned back around and looked, not at Kaiba’s face, but at his hand, hovering uneasily over the drinks and-

“Uh, Kaiba? Are you shaking?” Joey asked. He grinned half-heartedly, like he expected it to be some kind of joke.

Kaiba’s hand snapped into a fist immediately. He thrust his arm down to his side and turned quickly to glare at Joey, before turning even more quickly away again.

Joey scrunched his eyebrows incredulously.

“Why _am_ I here?” Kaiba murmured.

“Uh, I dunno,” Joey volunteered. “It sure looks like you want an energy drink.”

“Shut up, you!” Kaiba snapped at Joey. “Idiot!” he added, before continuing his murmurs, addressing himself. “You _literally_ don’t have time to be here. Your time is worth too much to be spent in this godforsaken hole in the ground with these morons.”

Joey huffed, exasperated. “Don’t start with that snobby rich guy _too-good-for-everyone_ act, again.”

“I’m not being egotistical,” Kaiba protested, turning to Joey, more calmly this time. “It’s a simple fact. My time is worth near a million yen per hour. I can’t afford to spend it here.”

“Then why are you here?” Joey asked again.

For a moment, silence sat between them.

And then Kaiba grit his teeth and clutched the side of his face with one hand. Joey watches as Kaiba’s eyes bulged, and it suddenly occurred to him what was happening.

Kaiba was having some kind of mental break, in a fucking Family Mart, over what kind of energy drink he wanted.

And it was surprisingly unpleasant to watch.

“Aw, geez…”

Joey scanned the shelf and selected one of the bottles.

“Lipovitan-D, okay?” he asked, waving it up to Kaiba’s face. “Best to go with the classic, right? You’re not going to break out in hives on me, are you?”

Kaiba looked at him, blank faced.

Joey sighed, frustrated that he’d have to make this sudden act of altruism more explicit.

“Look, just- Just go take a couple of breaths of fresh air. I’ll get you your damn energy drink.”

Kaiba stared at him with the same look of incomprehension, but Joey had to turn away and walk up to the counter before he changed his mind.

He had no idea how to explain the fact that, unlike a night at a fancy hotel or French toast and sparkly orange juice at a seaside restaurant, an energy drink at Family Mart was actually _within_ his budget. And that was somehow meaningful.

“Hey! How’s it going’?” Joey said, waving at the cashier, as he dropped his items roughly on the counter.

“Not bad, not bad…” was the soft reply. Joey watched the cashier rung up the items. His hair was brushed back flat under his cap, and his apron was neatly folded. His gestures were inoffensive, and his words – polite. But, all the same, something about him, perhaps the time and thought and care he put into every movement, indicated to Joey that he lived closer to Joey’s part of town, and wasn’t just the bored, aimless son of a high-class businessman.

“Your total comes to 1638 yen.”

“Sure. Sure,” Joey agreed, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He flipped through it, pausing briefly over his metro pass, to find a lone thousand yen bill. Without pausing, he went to unzip the change pocket, and upturned over the counter. He flipped quickly through the coins and-

“Shit-” Joey cursed softly. He was short. “Hey, man, how much was that aspirin?”

He picked up the box of Pocky to stare at the label – 550 yen.

“640 yen,” the cashier said, reading the price of the aspirin off from his monitor.

Joey’s headache still persisted, no doubt aided by Kaiba’s sudden appearance.

But, between food and medicine…

“Cut it,” Joey said, brushing the aspirin tablets away with his hand. “Just the other two.”

The cashier obediently scanned the aspirin again, removing it from the total. With only 966 yen left to pay…

Joey’s eye caught on the lottery scratchers under the glass counter.

He glanced down at the change on the counter. He isolated a group of fifty yen coins, dragging them across the counter with his fingers. He had enough for two of the hundred yen scratchers.

…And it would serve Kaiba right to have to wait a few minutes for him.

“Hey, add in a couple of those-” Joey said, pointing to the stack of paper tickets under the counter. “The red and pink stripped ones.”

The scratchers proudly advertised: _Win 5000000 Today!_

“Might win enough to buy back my aspirin,” Joey grinned, aware of the self-deprecation inherent in every word.

The cashier smiled back. “Just don’t go in expecting the grand prize.”

He ripped the tickets off from the stack and slid them across the counter to Joey. And Joey forked over his cash, to get the rest of the items rung up.

He grabbed a stray five yen coin lying on the counter, and got to work scratching away the carbon film coating the tickets.

You needed to reveal three matching amounts to have a winning ticket. The first scratcher revealed no matches whatsoever and, just when the second ticket seemed to promise some success with two matching circles of one thousand yen, the final circle revealed an uncomplimentary five thousand yen.

“No luck?” the cashier asked, leaning over the counter to study Joey’s tickets.

“No luck,” Joey agreed. He pushed the spent scratchers back across the counter, accepted his plastic bag, gathered up the change on the counter, and waved as he walked off.

Kaiba wasn’t in the aisles anymore, and Joey realised he must have left.

 _Giant waste of time and money-_ he thought uncharitably.

But he looked side to side, as the automatic doors parted in front of him exiting the store, and startled.

Kaiba was standing to the left of the exit, leaning against the side of the building, with crossed arms and an ugly expression.

And it occurred to Joey that Kaiba must have actually _listened_ to his advice, and gone outside for fresh air, and that was even more startling.

“Here you go, moneybags,” Joey said. He dug through his bag, passing over the Pocky for the Lipovitan, and tossed the bottle over to Kaiba with a small flick of his wrist.

Kaiba caught it deftly in his hand, and stared at it – like Joey had tossed over something completely foreign to him, like one of Honda’s fancy car wrenches.

Or tossed him a shovel and told him to dig.

“Savour it, Kaiba,” Joey teased. “Don’t drink it all at once!”

Kaiba frowned. “It’s essentially a _shot_ , Wheeler. You’re _supposed_ to drink it all at once,” he said, proving he did, in fact, know what to do with it.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Joey said, reassuring himself more than Kaiba. He gave a quick thumbs-up before turning to go. “See you around!” he called, completely aware that he wouldn’t be running into Kaiba again anytime soon if he could help it.

“Hold on a minute, Wheeler,” Kaiba protested, stiffly.

Against his better judgement, Joey looked back over his shoulder.

“Today, you have quite clearly demonstrated,” Kaiba began magnanimously, “that your time is far less valuable and far more dispensable than mine.”

Joey bristled. “Wanna try sayin’ that again, asshole?!” He waved his fist threateningly at Kaiba.

“I’m not finished,” Kaiba cut in. He took one last look at the Lipovitan-D before stashing it in one of his trench coat pockets. From another pocket he drew out a plastic cardholder and a pen. “You have also demonstrated the bare minimum of competence required for a gofer,” he pulled a card out of its plastic sheet and signed it with a flourish, before walking forward to shove it into Joey’s plastic shopping bag. “If you’re interested in getting a job instead of just mooching endlessly off society, feel free to drop by the Kaiba Corp offices sometime in the next week for an interview. Security should allow you in with that card.”

Joey looked incredulously at Kaiba.

“…Mutt,” Kaiba added belatedly, for good measure, before stalking off.

Joey realised suddenly that he couldn’t let all this pass without comment.

“Hey! Jerkass!” he shouted after Kaiba. “What makes you think I don’t already have a job?!”

Joey could head Kaiba snort, even though he didn’t bother to look back.

“It’s the middle of a workday, and you’re bumming around a convenience store. _You_ do the math, Wheeler,” he said. His trench coat fluttered behind him, as he rounded the corner and disappeared.

Joey snorted.

Kaiba always had to have the last word, but the joke was on him. By that logic, Kaiba didn’t have a job either.

Not to mention Joey _did_ have a job. A crummy job at a warehouse that he was liable to lose at any moment. But it _was_ a job.

Joey dug through the plastic bag again and retrieved the card Kaiba had left for him. It seemed just about as generic as business cards went – plain blue and white, with the Kaiba Corp logo in the corner, the company motto at the bottom, and basic contact information, including an address and customer service phone number. The only thing that made it stand out was Kaiba Seto’s signature slanting across it.

And it felt wrong to just throw it out, and his head still hurt, so Joey did what he figured just about anybody would do in his situation:

He fished his wallet out of his back pocket once more, shoved the card inside, and forgot about it for as long as he could afford.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is established JouMai, developing JouKai - both of these relationships are endgame. Trying not to be too cliché despite using cliché number one – Joey working at Kaiba Corp. Slow burn, swathes and swathes of gen, phone calls, and class warfare. References to Honda/Otogi/Serenity, and Anzu/Yuugi in the background. Trying to stick too much content into one fic.
> 
> And, yessir, you did see me use a mix of dub and sub names up there. There is a method to my madness, but my mind is a confusing mess of various canons, ygotas, wikia articles, fanfic, meta, and personal ideas. So the version of canon I’m following is whatever-the-hell-version-I-feel-like-at-any-particular-moment. Please just go with it.
> 
> Also, I looked up information on the Japanese Lottery and, while I discovered that they definitely have Lotto scratchers, I didn’t see anything that indicated they were specifically sold in convenience stores. It seems like there are specific Takara-kuji Lottery booths were you can buy tickets and scratchers, but I don’t know if they can be bought anywhere else. For the sake of this fic, though, all the convenience stores in Domino City sell them. Again, please just go with it.
> 
> Or, yanno, don’t go with it. But you’ve been warned that this is a very please-just-go-with-it fic.


	2. Siblings, Textbooks

_Ring… Ring… Click!_

_“Mai?! Is that you?!” Joey asked. “Already?!”_

_“You’ve got caller ID, don’t you, hon? …And what do you_ mean _, ‘already’?”_

_“Nah, it’s not like that! I just wasn’t expecting a call from you so soon!” Joey grinned. “Is everything okay?”_

_“Everything’s fine – you_ told _me to call you as soon as I arrived.”_

_“No, I didn’t.” It came out defensively. Joey flushed with embarrassment._

_“Well, you_ meant _to,” Mai retorted._

_Joey couldn’t argue with that._

_“So tell me about Australia? You get through your flight okay? Got to the hotel?”_

_“New Zealand,” Mai corrected. “And it’s night time here, too, so I haven’t had a chance to see much of Auckland, yet, but it_ seems _like a very modern city. The skyline is very pretty, and I got a comfortable room with a view, so...”_

_There was a pause as Mai shuffled the phone on her shoulder._

_“I’m meeting with the tournament sponsors tomorrow morning,” she continued. “But after that I’ll have about a week to go sightseeing before the tournament’s opening ceremony.”_

_“Hmmm… Well you’ll have to tell me all about it then, won’t you?” Joey grinned into the phone._

_“Oh, will I?” Mai teased._

_“Yeah.” Joey smiled. “You will.”_

==

Joey managed to hold onto his job for another month, before a last minute emergency popped up to ruin things. But, to Joey’s surprise, his father was not, in fact, to blame for this sudden disturbance in his plans.

Serenity was getting ready for another semester of art college in Kanazawa, and Joey had gotten up early to catch the first train over to the Kawai residence. His visit would allow him to help Serenity pack her things, and to see her off without provoking too much scrutiny from their mother.

Serenity’s room was small, only an isolated corner in the downstairs of their maternal grandparents’ house, but it was completely cluttered with clothes, knickknacks, stuffed animals, sketchbooks, painter’s canvas, and textbooks.

Joey looked at the little bear figurines that littered the top of her desk, and flipped through the books. _Human Physiology 3 rd Edition_, _The Complete Annotated Works of Natsume Souseki_ , _Contour and Form,_ and _European Art History from 1000 AD to the Late Renaissance_. And that was just the beginning of the pile!

“Hey, Serenity! Are you sure you need _all_ of these?” he asked his sister, who was meticulously wrapping bottles of ink and paint into newspaper and plastic sheets, so they wouldn’t break and spill.

“They’re good to have around for reference,” she explained, “even if they’re not required for my classes this year.”

“And this teddy bear clock?” Joey asked, snickering, as he held it up. The clock ticked faster as it swooped up into the air. The bear had a red bowtie. Its belly made up the face of the clock and, in a blatant disregard for its anatomy, the hands of the clock were in the shape of little bear paws.

“Just keep packing, onii-san,” Serenity smiled.

Joey snickered again, but he obediently continued packing. Once again, he noted with pride the breadth and depth of the subjects of the textbooks. Serenity’s interests were very eclectic.

_And she’s so smart! I probably wouldn’t’ve been able to understand even one of these books!_

They worked mostly in companionable silence. Joey told Serenity that their dad was in good health. And Serenity told him about the friends she had made at uni. But the conversations died out, and Joey was left sighing contentedly at the peace and comfort of the soft carpeted floor and Serenity’s company.

And then his mother ruined it.

Serenity was folding up her futon, and the only thing left to pack were the things in her closet, when their mother leaned in through the door.

“Serenity, your boyfriend’s here,” she announced, leaning into the room.

“Oh, Honda’s here!” Joey brightened. His mother had never referred to Honda in such a neutral, not-derogatory way. Maybe it was a sign she was finally warming up to him.

Serenity turned bright red. “Mom!” Serenity hissed. “I _told_ you – not in front of Joey!”

Their mother rolled her eyes and turned away. “Go on in,” she said, smiling into the hall as she walked off. And Joey was confused. Because why wouldn’t his sister want him to know Honda was coming over?

And then Otogi walked through the door and everything and nothing abruptly made sense.

“Hi, Serenity!” Otogi waved easily. “Oh, and you’re here too, Jou!” he smiled.

Joey felt instantly on edge, thrown completely off balance.

“What the hell?!” He sprung to his feet. “What’re you doing here, dice boy?!” he demanded.

Otogi seemed oblivious to any wrong-doing on his part. “Well, I’m the one with the car, so…”

Serenity took a deep breath. “He’s helping me haul stuff to the dorm. And dropping me off at school,” she explained.

“It’s _five hour drive_ to Kanazawa!” Joey protested. “What the hell are you two going to get up to in that time?”

_And it would be evening by the time they got there. Would Otogi drive back overnight? Or…_

Serenity bit her lip and looked to Otogi. Joey was not comfortable with the way their look seemed to communicate something without words.

“Um, _driving_ ,” Otogi answered. “What else would we get up to in a car?”

Joey grabbed the collar of Otogi’s stupid black tank top and hauled him up and around.

“Onii-san!” Serenity protested.

“You _know_ that’s not what I’m talkin’ about, dice boy!” Joey said. “Why’d my mom call you my sister’s boyfriend?!”

“Kawai-san said that?” Otogi asked, obliviously. Which didn’t sound enough like a denial for Joey’s liking.

Joey bristled. He was about to tell Otogi that the only reason he had allowed Otogi near his sister when they were younger was because he trusted Otogi knew better than to try anything, and that he was a grade-A jerk for coming between Serenity and Honda!

But then his mom snuck back into the room and rammed her heel into the top of Joey’s foot.

Joey immediately released Otogi and hopped around the room, clutching his foot and his holey white sock.

“Don’t mess this up!” his mother hissed at him, not quietly enough that everybody in the room couldn’t hear her. “You can’t deny that he’s a better catch than that _friend_ of yours.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Joey saw Otogi and Serenity both flinch.

Otogi recovered faster. “Uh, hey- How about you two siblings go grab a cup of coffee somewhere?” he offered.

Otogi laid an arm over their mom’s shoulder – the touchy-feely bastard – and Joey almost threw up when his mom blushed.

“It seems like you’ve got most everything packed up,” Otogi continued. “Kawai-san and I can pack up the rest for you while you guys talk… You can take my car, Serenity!”

He dug through his pocket, and pulled out a set of keys, with a decorative keychain of green and red dice. He tossed them at Serenity who caught them easily.

For a second, they just stood there. Joey glowered and cradled his foot. His mom blushed. And Serenity glared at Otogi, who winked back.

And then Serenity glanced at Joey, and the second ended.

“Fine,” Serenity agreed tersely. She clamped her fist around the keys. “C’mon, onii-san!” And before Joey could protest, she grabbed a hold of his wrist and dragged him out the door.

Serenity moved the driver’s seat forward and adjusted the position of the rear-view mirror, like she had done it a thousand times before, before pulling out onto the street. They didn’t say anything as Serenity drove, and Joey watched her.

His sister was only nineteen – three years younger than him – and _she_ had her driver’s licence, even though he didn’t. Joey remembered wondering why she even _needed_ one, when she took the test. It wasn’t like she had a car. And Honda had a motorbike, but he still had to borrow his dad’s car if he needed one.

Serenity had flicked the controls on Otogi’s dashboard without even looking at them.

 _Well, I guess that explains why_ , Joey thought.

Serenity drove idly, circling the long way around the blocks and through the more scenic areas of town.

But it wasn’t until they got to the coffee shop that Joey realised he’d lost track of time, somewhere between checking the teddy bear clock at ten in Serenity’s room and now. It was almost noon, according the clock on the café wall, and he was no longer able to make it back to Domino City in time for his shift at two.

He and Serenity were waiting in line for coffee, and Joey tapped her on the shoulder and bowed ever so slightly before she could turn around to meet his eyes.

“Ah, give me a second~ Okay, sis? I need to go make a phone call really fast.”

“Oh, no problem, onii-san,” she assured.

Joey ducked out of the line. “Don’t you dare buy me anything, Serenity!” he said. “I’ll order when I get back.”

He heard Serenity hum her agreement, but he knew she was lying. She and his friends never missed an opportunity to give him ‘extra’ food that was ‘too close to the expiration date’, or ‘I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought I was’.

Joey sighed and headed to the back of the shop, near the restrooms, and that was how he lost his job.

“Yooo-”

“Forget it,” Youko cut him off. “I told you already. If you’re going to be late one more time, you can kiss this job goodbye. And you _are_ , aren’t you?”

“C’mon, that was four weeks ago!” Joey whined.

“And that’s why you had a job for the last four weeks,” Youko retorted.

“You don’t understand,” Joey shot in quickly. “My little sister-”

“But I _do_ understand,” Youko said, exasperated. “ _I_ understand that I can’t count on you to show up for work. And _you_ understand that I can’t afford to keep workers I can’t count on.”

“Youko-chan…” Joey pouted.

Youko sighed. “Maybe when you get your personal affairs in order,” she said. “But – for now – you’re fired. You have my number if you need to a reference. I can’t promise a stellar recommendation, but I won’t rat you out either.”

And with that, she cut the call, and Joey was left holding the silent cell phone.

“God, _dammit_!” he hissed, clapping the hinge on his phone shut. He gripped it in his hand, and considered hurling it at the floor, but managed to stop himself. He couldn’t afford to replace it, if he broke it.

Instead he shoved the phone back inside his pocket, and ducked into the bathroom.

He walked up to the sink and looked in the mirror.

His hair was messy. The roots were growing in dark. He’d have to bleach them again.

His face looked tired.

He tried grinning, and the exhaustion peeled away, on the outside at least.

Did he look _any_ older than he had four years ago?

_What does Mai even see in a little kid like you?_

_Shit_ , he didn’t have time for this now. He swivelled the handle on the faucet and splashed water over his face. Flung it up over his head, and patted his hair down.

Serenity was talking on her own phone when he exited the restroom. When she caught sight of Joey, she muttered a few quick words and cut the call.

Joey frowned, and took a seat across the table from her. A croissant and a cup of coffee with foamy creamer and caramel swirls was set out in front of him.

“I couldn’t decide what I wanted to order,” Serenity lied. “So I just got both, thinking we could share.”

Joey picked up the croissant and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. Just so she’d know he wasn’t fooled.

“Onii-chan!” she protested. “You’re so mean!” she pouted.

“Mhhmff~” Joey grumbled around the croissant. He moved his mouth laboriously around the bread, chewing it only a couple of times before he gave up and swallowed it whole. He chased it down with the too hot coffee.

His sister watched him, vexed.

“Was that Otogi?” he asked, once his mouth was free again. He looked pointedly at her cell phone, lying on the table.

Serenity paused a minute. “…Yes?” she finally said, like she wasn’t quite sure.

_When had his sister learned to lie?_

_(When she was four, and the preschool teachers had incessantly asked her if everything was okay at home.)_

Joey grumbled to himself, and it was at just that moment that his phone rang. He cursed under his breath, and Serenity waited patiently as he dug his phone out of his pocket.

 _Anzu_ flashed across the screen, and Joey’s eyebrow twitched. He glanced back over at his sister, and silenced the ringer.

 _Wrong time again, Anzu_ , he thought to himself. Maybe he could call her again later.

He shoved the phone back in his pocket, and it dinged to indicate a missed call.

He strummed his fingers on the table. Serenity watched him. He didn’t know what to say?

“Hey, do you know what time it is in New York?” he asked Serenity.

Serenity pursed her lip. He heard her murmur numbers underneath her breath.

“They’re about… ten hours ahead of us. …So around ten at night.” She smiled.

 _Geez, she was smart_ , he thought again proudly.

Only that meant he couldn’t call Anzu back until it was morning for her.

“Oh,” Joey said lamely.

Serenity lifted up her coffee mug and took a sip. She picked up a piece of biscotti and tapped it against the platter, where it fragmented and crumbled.

“Are you really that upset about Otogi?” Serenity asked. “Or was it just Mom?”

“Of course it’s not _just_ Mom!” Joey protested. “Serenity, why didn’t you _tell_ me you broke up with Honda?! You know I would’ve taken your side no matter what!”

_I mean- he’d take sides with Honda too, but- Just as soon as he punched Honda for whatever he did wrong._

“Um…” Serenity fidgeted nervously.

“It just seems like you don’t share things with me as much as you used to…” Joey said, defeated.

“Joey…” Serenity said sadly. She reached forward to take his hand.

Joey flinched, and pulled his hand away.

_A little too close to the bone._

“Well,” Joey huffed, full of false bravado. “That, and dice boy sure as hell isn’t good enough for you. The way he flirts with everyone… Stuck up, poncy jerk!”

His sister frowned and withdrew her hand.

“He was _your_ friend before he was mine!” his sister protested. “You must see at least a _little_ good in him.”

Joey frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“He dressed me up in a dog suit.”

“He also said you saved his father’s life,” Serenity retorted.

“Yeah,” Joey agreed, “but only because his father _locked himself and Yuugi in a burning room_!”

“That wasn’t his fault!” Serenity said. “He had our backs during Battle City! And with Noa! I might have lost my duel with Outa… if he hadn’t been there with me...”

Joey hugged his arms closer to his chest.

“And Ryuuji’s father is in intensive care now,” Serenity scolded. “Make sure you don’t mention it in front of him. He’s very sensitive.”

Joey realised suddenly he was blinking back tears. He inhaled deeply and held them back from falling. But nothing could hold back what he said next.

“ _You_ saved _my_ life…” he croaked, softly.

He was talking about the pier. And how Serenity had dove into the water after him.

But he was talking about more than just that.

He’d believed in her before he had anybody else to believe in.

_And if she didn’t believe in him…_

“Joey…” she said again, in that soft voice full of pity. And Joey couldn’t _stand_ it!

“Look!” he said. “No sister of mine should have to settle for Otogi Ryuuji! You’ve got the looks! You’ve got the brains! You’re going to college! And you’ve got everything going for you! So you sure as hell shouldn’t be wasting your time with a lowlife like-”

And then his sister broke into tears. She held her hands up to cover her face and shook softly. And Joey was still had watery eyes himself, except now he felt like a complete piece of shit.

“Hey- Hey- Serenity-” he placated nervously. He looked around nervously, and scooped up the napkin Serenity had pinned under her coffee cup. He stood up and reached across the table to touch her arm, but she shook him away violently.

“No!” she protested. She pulled her hands away from her face and wiped her eyes and nose on her forearm. “Listen, onii-san! I’m grateful for everything you went through so that I could have my eye surgery! And I’m grateful for the money you put in to help me pay my tuition! And I might never be able to repay you, but _you didn’t buy my life with those favours_! It’s none of your business who I date or what I do at school or anything else!”

And Joey gulped. Because that wasn’t what he’d been trying to do, he didn’t think. He hadn’t been trying to control or buy or hold _anything_ over Serenity. But, at the same time, he couldn’t argue with what she was saying.

And then Serenity was crying full-force again, and hugging him this time, and telling him how much she’d miss him when she was at college, and it seemed that conversation was over.

Joey remembered patting her back awkwardly, and hearing himself tell her that _it’s okay. It’s okay!_ And she had better have a great time at art school at Kanagawa. And he’d just walk to the metro station from here and catch the train back to Domino.

He had work to get to, after all.

==

The train ride was long and there was nothing to do as he sat there for two hours, so there was plenty of time for Joey to get completely worked up again by the time he made it back to Domino to confront the other person responsible for this situation.

“What the hell, Honda?!” Joey protested.

“What the hell, Joey,” Honda said back, just for the sake of it. He was lying with his back on a creeper, under a blue sports car.

Honda’s dad had slapped him on the back when he arrived and sent him immediately down to the garage to see Honda, yelling after him if he wanted any snacks. He was practically another member of the family here.

But, then again, he wasn’t exactly supposed to loiter in the front of the autoshop.

_Heh~ You’d think they’d relax their standards at the mechanic’s, but a lot of our customers don’t exactly take your blonde hair the right way… you understand, son?_

“What the hell are you askin’ me ‘What the hell?!’ for?!” Joey shouted back at Honda.

“Joey, I have literally no idea what you’re even talking about.”

“I’m talking about Serenity!” Joey said. He leaned back against a worktable, pushing a tin of nuts and bolts and an oil can back from the edge in the process. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you guys broke up?!”

There was a distinct pause in the sound of metal dings, as Honda stopped tinkering with the engine. Then it started all over again.

Honda’s dog, Blanket, whined from the old armchair stuffed in the corner of the garage. She was getting old, and was not as mobile as she once was.

Joey glanced towards Blanket. He was waiting expectantly for an answer, but… He pushed himself up off the edge of the worktable and weaved through a line of parked cars to go pet Blanket on the head.

She whined again, contented, as Joey scratched her behind the ear.

“I sure don’t hear you talking, Honda!” he shouted back across the garage.

“Just- gimme a second, Joey. I’m kind of in the middle of something here.” There was a pause again in the rhythm of tinkering machines. “Hey- wait?! What are you even doing over here today? Didn’t you have work?”

Joey ruffled Blanket’s fur one last time before walking back over to the sports car Honda was working on.

“Eh? What was that?” Joey said. He cupped his ear for dramatic effect, even though Honda couldn’t see him. “You wanna get your ass kicked for driving my sister straight into Otogi’s arms?!”

“Knock it off, Joey,” Honda replied, without missing a beat. “I’ll be done in a moment.”

Joey shuffled on his feet and waited impatiently. He looked around at the garage. There were four different cars parked in an _L_ -formation. A pile of tires was stacked in the corner. And across the workbenches, on the cement floor, and even hanging from the walls and ceiling, were a whole bunch of strange tools and gadgets and hoses. Honda had given him the official tour three separate times, but still Joey could never put together what everything did. His mind always wandered as Honda explained things, and he would imagine the garage itself coming to life, like some science fiction monstrosity.

He wondered, if he had paid attention to Honda, if he knew what everything did, would Honda’s dad be willing to hire him to work at the shop?

If money got really tight, and he had nowhere else to go, would Honda’s dad be willing to hire him anyhow? If things got really tight, would Joey be able to _learn_ how to fix engines and preform oil changes?

It didn’t matter, right? Honda was his friend, so Joey could never let anything like that come between them.

“Alright!” Honda said, triumphantly. He slid out from under the car at last, flipped himself over on the creeper, and pushed himself up to his feet. He had grease smeared across his face and his ratty-looking t-shirt. “About your sister…”

“About my sister,” Joey repeated, growling. He was trying to sound menacing.

Honda’s expression had changed, though. He looked rather sheepish.

“That is to say… uh… your sister…” he rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, sometimes things just don’t work out exactly in the way you thought they would… right? It doesn’t mean they didn’t work out... right? Like- Like-”

Honda gestured wildly, as he tried to think of an example.

“Like- Like Duellist Kingdom! You didn’t win the duel against Yuugi, but between him and Mai, you still managed to get the prize money for Serenity! Or- Or that time I went to punch Otogi on top of the Kaiba Corp blimp, but then we tripped and almost fell to our deaths!”

Honda looked very proud of this latest example.

“What are you even saying right now?” Joey grimaced.

“It’s just that even if things aren’t what you thought they were going to be, it doesn’t mean they’re bad, right?” Honda rephrased. “Like the time the okonomiyaki place was closed and we ended up going to the takoyaki place instead.”

“You don’t even like takoyaki that much-” Joey started, only to be interrupted by Honda’s ringing phone.

Honda pulled the phone and cursed under his breath when he saw the name flashing on the outer screen.

“Sorry, Joey. Private call – I gotta take this. I’ll just be a moment.”

He nodded briefly to Joey, before flipping the phone open and walking off.

“Hello,” he said. “Hey, I-”

And that was all Joey heard before Honda enclosed himself in the bathroom adjacent to the garage and shut the door.

Joey wished he hadn’t seen the name on the caller ID.

He fidgeted, rolling the hem of his shirt over his fingers. He paced back and forth, between the blue sports car and a family minivan, stopping every once in a while to pet Blanket on the head. But, every time he approached the bathroom door, he felt his steps become lighter and softer until, after the third time past, he stopped.

_He really shouldn’t, but…_

Whatever. He and Honda had been friends for, what, ten years now? And what were friends for if not getting nosily up in each other’s business?

Joey sneaked closer and pressed his ear against the door.

Honda’s voice was a little muffled, but audible from the other side.

“ _Me_?! You’re calling _me_ a coward?! _You_ had all morning to tell him what was up and you _still_ chickened out! I-”

Honda cut off. His tone abruptly changed to something lighter, less frustrated.

“Oh- Hey- …Are you driving, man? I keep telling you not to talk on the phone and drive at the same time.”

Silence as Honda waited for a response from the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I could tell. And I’d say she’s more than just a ‘little’ overwhelmed.”

Joey bit the inside of his lip.

“No. It’s fine. Tell her it’s fine.”

Joey wanted to heave a sigh, but he caught himself just in time. He stepped away from the door, as quietly as he could, and stopped when he was about eight paces away.

He realised very abruptly that he didn’t actually _want_ to put all the pieces together.

“Hey, Honda!” he shouted. “I’m gonna head over to Yuugi’s, okay?”

He only had to wait a moment before Honda shouted back at him.

“What?! But you just got here!”

Joey was already on his way out though. “Thanks for having me over!” he called, before stepping through the exit and slamming the door behind him.

==

Yuugi’s place was in walking distance of Honda’s – about twenty minutes away – so it was embarrassing that, for the entire duration of the walk – Joey spent his time completely zoned out and didn’t think to call ahead.

He entered through the shop, and Sugoroku perked up immediately over the arrival of a new face. There was a girl picking out a board game, and a couple of school kids browsing the Playstation games Sugoroku had reluctantly agreed to stock, but nobody was up at the counter.

Joey tactfully looked away from the Dungeon Dice Monsters sets, on commission from Black Crown Games.

“Oh, Joey!” Sugoroku greeted, as Joey leaned up against the front counter and display case. “Good thing you’re here! I just got in a new shipment of Duel Monsters cards!”

“Eh~” Joey scratched the back of his head. “You know I don’t really duel that much anymore, Gramps… And, even if I did, I don’t know how I’d get together the money to pay you for ‘em.”

Sugoroku scratched his chin. “Wellll, I was going to give you first choice on what you wanted, since Yuugi’s being a stick in the mud, but if you’re sure…”

Joey laughed. “I’m sure, Gramps.”

Sugoroku laughed back. “I guess I better set up the display then – those cards will be sold out by the end of the week.”

“I already said you can’t convince me, Gramps,” Joey teased.

“Oh, hush~” Sugoroku said dismissively. “You’re here to see Yuugi, then. You’re welcome to, but I don’t know how much fun he’ll be.”

Joey’s smile faded.

“Yeah, you said he was being a stick in the mud. What’s up? He finally got finished up with that internship, right? And the next semester hasn’t even started yet! What’s the issue?”

Sugoroku propped his elbow up on the counter, and grinned wryly.

“Undergraduate research proposal,” he explained.

Joey deflated. “Oh.”

Sugoroku beckoned Joey behind the counter, and directed him into the house proper. “You know I kid around, but I’m really very proud of that boy. Feel free to go up and see him, but don’t interrupt his work too much, y’hear.”

“Sure, Gramps,” Joey agreed, letting himself inside.

He bowed to Yuugi’s mom in the kitchen, and made his way up the stairs to Yuugi’s room. He knocked only briefly, before letting himself inside.

Yuugi’s desk was against the wall, just to the side of the door, but it had been transformed into a veritable fortress. Its walls were built from books in Arabic and French, manuals on game design theory, and official university print-outs. Discarded papers and writing implements and leftover socks from a game of concentration were littered around the desk like a moat. And, from inside the castle, Joey could just catch the gleam of the desktop computer and the top of Yuugi’s curly hair.

Yuugi leaned back in his seat and looked over curiously. He was wearing a pair of red-framed reading glasses and they magnified his eyes to gargantuan proportions.

“Oh, hey, Joey! What brings you over? I thought you were working today.”

Joey sighed. _Why did everyone have his shift schedule memorised?_

“Not anymore,” he said. He walked across the room and collapsed face-down on Yuugi’s bed. “Raaaagh!” he growled into the pillow.

Yuugi took this all in stride.

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked. “You don’t mind if I work while you talk, right?”

Joey flipped himself over on the bed, crossed his arms over his stomach and started to relay the events of the day – his visit to the Kawai family home, Otogi’s appearance and its fallout, and how he had misjudged the time and Youko had fired him over the phone.

Yuugi was a little too good a listener. He said all the right things. He was calm, reassuring, and sympathetic, without being too overbearing. But he did it all with such an ease, Joey was completely convinced Yuugi wasn’t really listening. Torn between his school work and the discussion, his replies seemed generic and half-hearted, and Joey probably wouldn’t have even recognised it if he didn’t know Yuugi so well – if he didn’t know exactly how full-hearted Yuugi could be.

“I mean- I’m sure I can still count on Yamada-san for a couple stints in construction work, but that’s about it,” Joey concluded.

“Well, it’s good you’ve got him on your side until you can work something else out,” Yuugi concluded. “I’m sure you’ll make it work, Joey. You’re always really capable when it comes to stuff like this. And if you need any help, your friends are always here for you!”

“Thanks, Yuugi,” Joey said.

“No, I mean it, Joey. If you need a place to stay, or to borrow some money, you know Honda and I wouldn’t hesitate-”

“Yeah, yeah, _thanks_!” Joey interrupted.

Yuugi, thankfully, got the message and dropped the subject.

 _Duellist Kingdom was one thing… And it was enough of a thing_ _already._

Joey laid there, let the time go by, and listened as Yuugi scribbled notes and typed and translated.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, what are you working on?” he asked.

“Uh…” Yuugi stalled for a long moment as he finished up what he was doing and came to a pause in his work. “I’m putting together a research proposal for comparative game studies. I’m going to be focusing on the Middle East and surrounding areas but, on a worldwide level, games have historically used similar mechanics, as well as combined applications of probability and skill. I’m trying to see how much of the intellectual history of games has unified roots. And, if I’m lucky, I can use this as an opportunity to put together my own game.”

Yuugi beamed.

Joey wasn’t sure what to say about that.

“Okay,” he grinned. “Sounds cool!”

Yuugi blushed. “Well, it’s complicated. Maybe I can explain it better later. What it actually comes down to is a lot of translating.”

“Yeah, I saw the textbooks,” Joey said. “You taking more language stuff this year.”

“Yes, unfortunately,” Yuugi said. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of it…”

Joey let the conversation taper off again.

After the two years Yuugi had spent after high school, dragging his feet on the colossal effort of university applications and testing high enough to make up for his poor academic record, Joey hadn’t expected him to make up for the time lost with a sudden burning passion for his studies once he actually got accepted. Yuugi had flung himself headfirst into academia in the last two years, during which he had apparently gotten in good with the professors, faculty, and other students.

It was fantastic, and Joey was nothing but happy for Yuugi pulling things together like this.

But he also guiltily missed all the time Yuugi had had to spend with him, during those two years he had moped around being a rōnin.

There was a wooden _burr_ puzzle on Yuugi’s nightstand, and Joey reached for the distraction eagerly. He fiddled with it for a while, and managed to get it disassembled, but gave up halfway through a failed attempt to reassemble it. He gathered the pieces and plopped them back on the nightstand, before diving under the mattress for Yuugi’s porno mags.

Yuugi’s collection had, and always had been, way more extravagant and comprehensive than Joey’s.

Summer and winter editions. Domestic and foreign. Catering to a wide variety of fetishes. From idol catalogues that only managed to be _slightly_ racy, to Yuugi’s weird S&M stuff with its collars, leather, and ropes, to illicit uncensored mags he shouldn’t have rightly been able to buy.

Joey chose something uncensored that he figured was more vanilla than not, and laid down to flip through it.

He got halfway through the mag, before he was irrationally bothered by the fact that all the guys were butt ugly.

You couldn’t see much of them, only the edges of their stomachs and thighs and junk pressed up against the girls – and the girls were _hot_ , make no mistake – but the guys’ stomachs and thighs and junk were all fat and dirty and hairy. And the shock of going from beautiful airbrushed skin and wanton faces and swollen clits to what could only be the sleaziest looking guy in the world…

It was a complete boner-killer.

Joey flipped the magazine shut, and thought about telling Yuugi this. He thought about asking Yuugi why, in his extensive collection, he couldn’t manage to include one _single_ mag with normal looking guys in it.

But then he decided against it when he realised how gay it might sound.

And then Yuugi’s mom knocked on the door to deliver a plate of shrimp crackers and apples slices cut like rabbits (with an extra triple serving, _because Joey-kun needs his fruits and vegetables_ ), and Joey had to hastily shove all the magazines under the comforter and try and make himself look innocent and unsuspecting.

Joey spent hours lazing away in Yuugi’s room. The crackers and apples had long since been safely tucked away. He and Yuugi had started and ended and restarted dozens of tiny conversations. Outside, the sun was starting to set. And Joey found himself lying backwards on the bed, with his head falling upside down off the mattress.

He had his wallet out, was holding it upside down next to his face, and he flipped through it. He had placed photos of Mai and Serenity on opposite sides of a clear cardholder, and he tried to focus on the first and not the second. His sister’s long brown hair and smile didn’t fail to soothe him, even now, but somewhere along the way she had grown up, and she didn’t need her big brother quite so much as she once did.

Yuugi seemed to be wrapping up with his proposal for the evening, or at least moving slower. When Joey had asked him about it, he said he was optimistic on having it submitted up before the end of the week.

Joey looked at his photographs. He studied Mai’s impeccably styled blonde hair and her cheerful wink.

“Mai’s scheduled herself for more tournaments,” Joey said. “Something about poker somewhere, boating in Majorca, and then more Duel Monsters in Portugal.”

“She’s really made quite a career for herself, hasn’t she?” Yuugi marvelled. “When’s she getting back?”

Joey pouted. “At this rate, who knows?”

Yuugi fidgeted with the papers on his desk.

He turned to face Joey for the next part.

“You know she’s not avoiding you, right. You know she loves you.”

Mai had never said it. But, then, neither had Joey.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” he grinned. “She’s avoiding her parents this time, actually. They’ve been bugging her to come visit. She’s worried. They have all these expectations, but they’ve never been really close.” He narrowed his eyes at his photo of Mai. Pretended it was more real than just a photo. “It’s not me she’s avoiding,” he reiterated.

“Do you really _believe_ that, or are you just saying it?” Yuugi asked. “Because it’s _true_!”

Joey didn’t answer. Instead, he flipped through the money compartment of his wallet. He knocked aside a couple of losing lotto scratchers and counted up the bills.

_6500 yen. And he had an extra 80000 yen stashed at home, so long as his father hadn’t gotten to it._

_Still, it wouldn’t last long if he didn’t get another job soon. Especially with the rent payment coming up._

He went to close the upturned wallet, when a blue and white business card fluttered out of one of the pockets and drifted to the floor.

He and Yuugi watched it, as it flew down and rested on the carpet.

“Aha!” Joey crowed. He reached down over his head and snatched the card up off the floor. “I completely forgot I had this.” He turned it in his hand, so it would be facing the right way, and waved it at Yuugi. “Bona fide Kaiba Corp card. Mint condition and signed by the CEO himself. Bet that’s not something you see everyday!”

Joey snickered and went to replace the card in his wallet.

“Huh?” Yuugi said, confused. “You mean Kaiba signed it? How, and why, did you get ahold of that?”

“Eh~ I ran into him the other day.” Joey shrugged, the effect of which was ruined by hanging upside down over the side of Yuugi’s bed.

Yuugi didn’t seem to mind, though. “Really?” he asked, with rapt attention. “Did I hear you right, Joey? You ran into _Kaiba_?”

Joey hadn’t previously considered that this might be an interesting topic of discussion.

“Oh, yeah,” Joey replied. “Did I not tell you about that?”

Joey relayed his brief meeting with Kaiba at the convenience store a month prior, emphasising Kaiba’s rudeness and strange behaviour, and trying to make his own decision to spot Kaiba’s purchase seem completely rational.

Yuugi, though, seemed to completely miss the part of the story where he was supposed to raise a sceptical eyebrow and tell Joey he was crazy for caring. Instead, he looked Joey straight in the eyes, nodded on occasion, and let Joey finish telling him about how Kaiba had shoved the business card in his shopping bag, offered him a job, and insulted him no less than three more times before vanishing with an overdramatic swirl of his coat.

“Well, that’s quite unexpected,” Yuugi finally said.

“Eh~” Joey grinned lopsidedly and scratched the back of his head. “Not that strange, right?”

Yuugi’s eyes were magnified by his reading glasses, and they seemed to look right through him. And then Yuugi broke eye contact. He spun his desk chair around, and bit his lip, like he was thinking.

“You know I tried to contact him a couple of times after…” Yuugi trailed off. “Even as recently as two years ago.”

Joey nodded. He did know that. Yuugi was too kind for his own good.

Yuugi’s head tilted upwards, and Joey could only imagine what he saw.

“I know we weren’t exactly friends with him in the same kind of way as with the others, but… I thought what we witnessed – the things we saw and the games we played and… Egypt – I thought those things created a bond stronger than he could ignore.” Yuugi paused and looked back down to Joey and smiled. “I still think that.”

“Y- yeah,” Joey said. He felt strangely breathless. He remembered what Yuugi had told him, on the pier.

“And I know Kaiba-kun was pretty broken up when Atem left,” Yuugi concluded. “I mean, we all were. But Kaiba-kun was the only one who pulled away…”

And suddenly the conversation felt too heavy. Joey remembered the lethargy that had set over them on the way back to Japan.

Yuugi had sat between Anzu and him on the plane, and they were playing Dungeon Dice Monsters to distract from airsickness and exhaustion and the unfair, burning question, _What do you do now that you’ve won?_

“Kaiba’s such a jerk,” Joey said.

Yuugi snorted. “Yeah,” he agreed, smiling.

Joey spun his wallet in his hand. “He probably just did this to mess with me. Get my hopes up! Crash ‘em down! Laugh at the scruffy idiot without anything better to do with his life.” He snickered. “Imagine if I had actually showed up for that job interview! He probably would’ve hired me just so he could order me to bark like a dog!”

Yuugi’s smile faded slightly. He hesitated, and then – “I’m not so sure, Joey,” he said. “I- Maybe he’s lonely.”

Joey’s own smile dropped off his face. _Dammit_ , he scowled. _Yuugi had been thinking the exact same thing he had, then._

“I’m just saying- I know he hasn’t been very civil to you but, you know how Kaiba-kun is…” Yuugi explained. “He’s not the best at reaching out to people… And, for whatever reason, he’s reached out to you now… I’m not saying you should accept a job from him. But it couldn’t hurt to go check on him, right?”

“Yeah, great,” Joey sulked. “My best friend’s taking his side over mine.”

As the words left Joey’s mouth, he realised they came out too harsh.

Yuugi pursed his lips and swung his chair back around to study his textbooks.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Joey,” Yuugi said. “I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do, or anything. I just thought you might want another view on the situation.”

 _I did._ Joey frowned.

He just laid there on top Yuugi’s bed for a minute.

Yuugi scribbled notes. He flipped a page in one of his textbooks. Then flipped another page, a couple minutes later.

“But, yanno…” Joey finally allowed. “If I _did_ accept the job… Imagine all the things I could buy with a certified Kaiba Corp salary!” he crowed.

He felt immediately relieved when Yuugi laughed.

“Sure, Joey. Sure.”

The cogs in Joey’s brain began turning.

He had just said it to fix the atmosphere in the room, but he actually had a point.

How much would a Kaiba Corp job pay? Even if it was just a job as an errand boy, he’d be working in a fancy office in the middle of the financial district. And, with a referral from the company president himself, he might be able to finagle a decent position with decent pay. Certainly better than what he could be making working as a bouncer, or a construction worker, or a packer in a warehouse.

And all the things he’d be able to _do_ with that money. He wouldn’t have to worry about his rent or utility bills or his father’s indiscretions. He’d be able to cover more of Serenity’s tuition. He’d be able to buy cards and games from Sugoroku’s shop, maybe even buy himself a brand new television.

And he’d be able to treat Mai, for once. He’d be able to cover hotel bills, pay for meals at five-star restaurants, and get her jewellery and clothes and whatever else she wanted. And no longer would he be the dead weight intent on slowly sinking their relationship. His success would be proof incarnate of his worth and deservedness as her partner.

And he knew he was getting carried away. But dreams were seductive, and downright necessary for coping in the face of reality.

_Honestly, what did he have to lose?_

“Alright, I’ll do it,” he declared. He’d check on Kaiba, like Yuugi suggested, and if he got a job and steady cash flow out of it – it’d only be killing two birds with one stone.

Joey somersaulted off the bed and crouched down on the floor. He turned to Yuugi.

“Can I use your shower?” It would save him a trip to the public baths.

Yuugi was typing, but he didn’t miss a beat.

“Of course! You know where the towels are.”

“Sure!” Joey agreed. “I’ll be seeing you then!”

Joey made his way to the door. Yuugi turned away from his work.

“You aren’t saying the night, then?” he asked. “You know Mom actually bought an extra futon for you.”

“Nah, I gotta go home.” Joey grinned extra hard. “Good luck with your research proposal.”

Yuugi laughed, a little nervously. “Of course, Joey. Thanks… For stopping by, I mean. You know you’re always welcome.”

 _Do you really_ believe _that, Joey, or are you just saying it?_

Joey didn’t say anything. He just smiled and waved to Yuugi, and exited into the hall.

==

Joey’s hair was still wet when he got back to his apartment. It was just past nine. His father wasn’t home yet.

He had only vague ideas about how to get ready for the next day. But getting something to eat was forefront in his mind.

He flipped on the lights. The kitchen was separated from the rest of the sitting room by a counter partition, and Joey headed there directly.

Aaaand of course there was nothing in the fridge.

Joey poked at the brown paper carton sitting in the corner. He was relieved to find it still had weight to it, and pulled it out to examine. Upon opening, the carton revealed three unused eggs.

Satisfied, Joey placed the egg carton on the counter and returned to the fridge. There was a jar of miso, and another of ginger paste, sitting near the back of the first shelf. On the third shelf, a bottle of mayonnaise was resting on its side. Half of a wilted onion was wrapped up next to it. And a mouldy avocado sat on the fourth shelf.

 _Ew. I really should toss that_ , Joey thought to himself. He eyed the avocado hostilely, before looking away and putting it out of mind.

Other than that, the fridge was filled with sake bottles, most of which were empty.

Joey did his best to gather up the empty bottles. He turned back to look into the sitting room, which was also littered with empty sake bottles and glass shards. He should sweep up too.

 _Was it too early to put out the glass recycling?_ he wondered.

He found a couple of empty plastic shopping bags on the counter across from him and shoved the empty bottles inside, where they clacked against one another noisily. He examined the last of the sake in the fridge, a good five full bottles, tied the trash bag firmly, and dropped it, unceremoniously, on the floor.

Then he grabbed the ginger paste, and hesitated over one of the sake bottles for a minute, before pulling it out of the fridge, too.

 _Whatever._ His father could give up a bottle for the sake of food. He might have popped Joey one for it, back in the day. But it wasn’t ‘back in the day’ anymore.

Joey shoved the ingredients on the counter and bent down to retrieve the sack of rice from the cupboard. It was more than half-empty, but that was still plenty for at least a week.

He dragged the rice cooker over and plugged it into the outlet – the one up above the counter, not the one on the side of the sink that had short-circuited – and dumped half the sake inside, before following it up with a good amount of water.

Rice porridge – with egg, sake, and ginger. It would have been better with leeks, or with shredded pork, but they didn’t have either of those things.

It was also sick people food. But, hey, it was a pretty resourceful use of their meagre selection of food. And, besides, if his dad didn’t have a cold now, he would probably come down with something in a week or so anyway. It was just how he was. This meal would be preventative medicine.

Joey took his time, standing over the rice cooker, mixing the broth. When it came time he broke the eggs right into the rice cooker’s metal pan and stirred them in with his chopsticks. A piece of eggshell fell into the dish, and he spent a long time half-heartedly trying to fish it out.

Eventually, Joey heard the door unlock, open, and slam shut. He very pointedly didn’t turn around, but he could feel the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck in anticipation.

Just the rhythm of his footsteps told Joey everything he needed to know. He relaxed, ever so slightly.

“Joey!” his father cheered. He slung his arm around Joey’s neck, and pulled him into a headlock, ruffling the hair on top of Joey’s head.

He stunk of alcohol, but it wasn’t so sour as Joey had seen before.

Joey waved his chopsticks wildly, and eventually elbowed his father in the gut.

His father whined, and let go, and Joey readjusted his position in front of the rice cooker. He stirred the porridge. It was just about ready to eat.

His father recovered and flung his arm back around Joey’s shoulder, more gently this time.

“You went to see Serenity-chan today, right?” his father asked. “How was she?”

“Good,” Joey said vaguely. “She asked after your health.”

Joey grasped for something else to say about Serenity – something about her upcoming semester at Kanazawa, maybe.

Joey was saved from elaborating, though, when his father got distracted. He looked over Joey’s shoulder at the porridge.

“What are you making? Congee?” he asked.

Joey hummed in agreement.

“It’d be really good with shredded pork,” his father added.

“Oh, really?!” Joey snapped sarcastically. “Did you bring any home, then?”

There was an awkward pause. Joey didn’t have to ask. His father never brought home groceries.

“You’re really snippy tonight,” his dad whined. “Whatever happened to filial piety?”

“Ya traded that in the first time you threw a sake bottle at me,” Joey said.

His father had nothing to say to that. They stood there, leaning into each other’s shoulders, until Joey had the presence of mind to feel bad.

“You seem in a good mood today,” Joey tried. “Things go well?”

“Lucky,” Joey’s dad agreed.

 _Luck, huh? Lucky you made it back home at all_ , Joey thought, but he decided to let that one go.

“Glad you're back,” he said instead. And then, before he or his father could ruminate on this goodwill, “Can you get me a couple of bowls?”

His father hummed in agreement, and let go to retrieve the plastic bowls stacked on the side of the sink.

Joey reached over and unplugged the rice cooker. He reached for a ladle.

Together, they ate. And, afterwards, his dad slept on the couch, and Joey swept the floor and laid out his futon on the other side of the sitting room.

That night was much like any other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The school Serenity is attending, Kanazawa College of the Arts, is the same one that Higashimura Akiko attended in her autobiographical manga _Kakukaku Shikajika_. Because screw doing actual research.
> 
> No but, _Kakukaku Shikajika_ is amazing. I highly recommend reading it.
> 
> And Yuugi mentioning that Kaiba was upset about Atem leaving is probably the closest we’re getting to DSoD compliance. I’m sorry – I just can’t accept a canon where Kaiba has a six pack.


	3. Keycard, Curry; part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got much longer than I thought it would. And, after too much contemplation, I decided dividing it in two parts might feel less intimidating to read (for you) and to edit (for me). That being said, I don’t really feel like the individual parts of _Keycard, Curry_ feel complete when not read as a whole.
> 
> Also: Remember, in canon, when Mokuba’s parents died and he ended up having to play the unfortunate single parent to his angsty, smart-aleck, teenage brother Seto? ( _Whaddaya mean that’s not how it happened?!_ ) Well, turnabout is fair play. Beware manga!Mokuba.

 

That night would have been much like any other, if the phone hadn’t started ringing at four am.

Joey awoke, gasping for air. He heard his father shuffling on the couch, and it took him a moment to realise what the ringing sound was.

He lifted his arm over his head, to where his phone was set above his futon. He silenced it, and dragged it over so he could blink wearily at the screen.

 _Anzu_ , the phone read.

Joey groaned as the call skipped and went to voicemail. But, before Joey could take in the moment of silence and decide how to proceed, the phone started ringing again.

_Goddammit, Anzu!_

Joey silenced the phone again, quicker this time, and dragged himself out of his futon. He located a dirty sweat jacket in the laundry pile in the corner of the room, and pulled it on over his bare chest and stained boxers, as he snuck out the front door.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, he flipped the phone open.

“Hello?! Joey?!” Anzu spoke cheerily into the phone line.

“Anzu, it’s the middle of the night!” Joey protested, softly, so he wouldn’t wake the neighbours. “You’re gonna wake up my dad!”

Anzu harrumphed softly on the other end of the line. She had very strong opinions about his dad, and Joey was relieved when she chose to leave them unspoken.

“Well, I tried calling you during the day yesterday, and you never got back to me!” she said instead. “How am I ever supposed to get a hold of you, if I don’t call you in the middle of the night?!”

“You could take a clue when I don’t answer the first time!” Joey tried.

“You seem upset,” Anzu said.

“You _did_ wake me up,” Joey whined.

He took a seat on the steps leading down from his door to the other apartment complexes. He could see the moon, waxing, from this angle, and basked in the breeze of the night air.

“You’re right though,” he added hesitantly. “I should have called you back last night.”

“Right,” Anzu agreed, “you should have.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joey said dismissively. “So- what’s up with you?”

Anzu sighed, both out of exhaustion and content. “Things have been crazy. I keep auditioning, but Broadway’s a hard world to break into. _Especially_ for anything that isn’t _backup dancer #52_. I just got out of an audition now, but let’s just say I’m not holding my breath.”

“Yeah, that’s probably better,” Joey said without thinking.

Anzu gasped with fake offence. “You’re awful!” she said. “You’re supposed to tell me that you’re sure I did great! And that they’ll definitely hire me! And, if they don’t, that it’s their loss and I’m too good for them!”

“If you want that kind of bull, maybe you should try waking Yuugi up instead,” Joey grumbled.

When Anzu didn’t immediately respond, he sighed.

“I didn’t mean that. I just meant that you can’t let your feelings get caught up in one little audition.”

Anzu laughed. “Yeah, I know.”

Of course she knew. Anzu had been sending out job applications and working illicitly since high school. She was the only other one of his friends who knew what it _was_ like.

“And, hey!” she added. “I’ve still got my hands full in the meantime! My roommates and I are putting together a little something. We’re only going to be doing two or three performances, and then another at some festival in July, but we’ve already sold around a hundred tickets on presale. We had this one upperclassman – not from the dance department – but he got us in with this one venue. So Chris and Linda put together the choreography and-”

Joey covered the microphone and turned away to yawn.

“Yeah. Uh-huh,” he agreed, as he brought his face back up to the phone.

It perplexed him, how much he both hated and loved hearing about Anzu’s times in New York.

Graduating a little more clumsily than she would have liked. Working part time at some crummy, cheap-ass sushi place that only served rolls. Auditioning for weird off-Broadway productions. And living in a communal flat with five other Columbia University alumni. Half the time, all she relayed to him were the spats she had with roommates – who wasn’t washing their share of the dishes, who was snoring too loudly in the middle of the night, and who drank all of the barley tea she had purchased specially.

Joey let his eyes trace the fading stars in the sky, and let his eyes dart between the closed doors of the adjacent apartments.

Listening to Anzu, he felt bored and intrigued and nostalgic all at once – nostalgic for things he’d never gotten the chance to taste.

He couldn’t dance or act or… do _anything_ , really. But he wondered what it would be like to be there with her anyhow.

But then he would actually have to learn English, so that was right out.

“So how have you been?” Anzu returned. “Any more stories about Youko the tyrant?”

“Youko-chan?” Joey asked. “Nah, you missed the window for the last of the Youko-chan stories yesterday by about… five minutes,” he guessed. “I got laid off. It’s back to job searching for me.”

Anzu tisked, and Joey was only happy it didn’t come out too sympathetic.

“Aw, really?” she asked. “Well, you better start sending in applications, then – and use your Japanese name this time for god’s sake!”

Joey grumbled noncommittally.

“And don’t be afraid to play up your good points, Joey!” Anzu commanded. “Or to apply for things _you_ think you’re underqualified for. You didn’t work as hard as you did, putting yourself through high school and getting your diploma, for nothing!”

“Sure.” Joey nodded his way through the lecture. “Right.”

Anzu wasn’t done. “You think Yamada-san can come through for you with a couple jobs in the meantime?” she quarried.

“Waaaay ahead of you, Anzu,” Joey groaned. “Way, _way_ ahead of you actually. Considering I already have a lead…”

“Oh, really? What is it?” Anzu asked.

When Joey was uninclined to answer, it set Anzu off.

“I _swear_ , Joey, if you’ve gotten mixed up with those gambling parlour dickheads – I will fly back to Japan myself and box you around the ears until-”

“Geez, Anzu,” Joey interrupted. “I’m telling ya, it’s not that… It’s just that I let Yuugi talk me into something, and it’s a little embarrassing…”

Anzu laughed into the phone when he told her.

“Seriously, _Kaiba_?” she asked.

“Yeah, well, you know how Yuugi is,” Joey deflected. “He’s always had a soft spot for lost causes.”

“And you should know, since you’re lost cause number one,” Anzu retorted.

Joey bristled. “Er, I don’t think so…” Joey said with deceptive lightness. “I’m _pretty_ sure _you_ were his lost cause long before I was.”

This didn’t have the same kind of bite as Anzu’s comment about him, but Anzu rose to the bait anyhow. She huffed in annoyance.

“Stop trying to get around the topic at hand. _You’re_ the one looking to Kaiba for a job, not me.”

Joey shrugged. “Eh? What’s the worst that can happen? I don’t get past the front doors. And, best case scenario, I walk away with a job that pays higher figures than any job I’ve ever worked before.”

“Not a man of high standards, considering what most of your jobs have paid,” Anzu snarked. “But if you say so,” she agreed. “I better let you go get ready then for your secret infiltration of Kaiba Corp, then.”

Sometimes it seemed like his whole existence was balancing worlds that were entirely secret to one another. His eyes darted around the ugly faces of the apartments once more.

But, something about how Anzu put it – _a secret infiltration_ – sparked something. Made it sound good.

“Actually… do you mind not mentioning this to Mai?” Joey blushed. “I-If this actually pans out, I wanna be able to surprise her.” His face was burning. He pressed the phone harder against his cheek and, with his other hand, pulled anxiously at his hair. “Flowers, jewellery, and a rented limo at the airport – you know – the full nine yards.”

Anzu turned out to be too nice to make fun of him for his sappy sense of romanticism. He could make out only a subtle, but _pleased_ , edge in her voice.

“No problem,” she agreed. “I’ll keep it vague for you.”

Joey could hear her shuffle the phone around in her hand.

“Let me know what happens. Don’t be a stranger!” she pleaded. “And return my calls, okay?”

Joey agreed and hung up.

He sat there for a while on the steps. The sun had started rising, and the light plunged the moon into a pale sketch that could barely be seen across the horizon. It was still cold enough out for his sweat jacket, but it was growing warmer. If spring was already this warm, he was worried what summer would be like.

Joey winced, and realised abruptly there wasn’t much point in trying to fall back to sleep. He checked his phone for the confirmation he didn’t need, and found out it was five thirty. He’d spent over an hour talking to Anzu.

Joey sighed and reset the alarm he’d put on his phone. Then he stood and trudged back into his apartment, pulling off the sweat jacket before he was even fully inside.

His father was still snoring. And Joey was careful to be quiet as he tiptoed to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, the light was burnt out. It was hard to see, but Joey left the door only slightly ajar, allowing in a bare minimum of natural light from the sitting room. There was only enough space for one person in the bathroom, crammed between the toilet and the sink. There was no shower or bath, and likewise no window or ventilation shaft. And Joey was aware that this probably violated some kind of code for rental housing, but you got what you paid for, after all. And there wasn’t much point in paying for better when his father would just end up trashing whatever place they were at.

Joey turned on the faucet and washed his face, before ducking down to look under the sink. He flipped through his stash of bottles, until he found the one he was looking for. It had a yellow label, with ‘ _BACK OFF DAD_ ’ scribbled on top in bold black marker – after a disastrous time his father had used it by mistake and exited the bathroom with his hair striped a dangerous orange. It was bleach, mixed in with some shampoo from Yuugi’s place. His hand passed over the box of blonde hair dye, hidden back behind the bottles. He’d get to applying it sometime in the next couple of days. He used to bleach his hair all the way down to a gossamer platinum. But Yuugi had, at some point, convinced him that this was bad for his hair and scalp, and started gifting him boxes of dye at semi-regular intervals.

Joey blinked at his face in the mirror, stared hard at the dark roots, and ducked his head under the faucet. He lathered the roots of his hair with the bleach shampoo, not bothering to use gloves, and looked back up at himself.

He looked ridiculous, with the shampoo foaming on his scalp, but not as ridiculous as he felt with brown hair.

He considered his eyebrows for a second, before deciding to leave them dark for now. He wasn’t in the mood.

He rinsed off his hands and left the shampoo in his hair, as he went back into the main room to study his clothes. He found a striped green t-shirt, a clean pair of dark jeans, but no clean underwear. Beneath the other clothes was an old suit he used for job hunting and special occasions, but he dismissed the idea of wearing it. He wasn’t even really sure was getting in for a job interview at Kaiba Corp in the first place and, even if he was, dressing up for Kaiba would be weird. He couldn’t have Kaiba think he was actually _trying_.

Still, the majority of his clothes were dirty, so he decided impulsively to put a load in at his apartment complex’s laundry room. He made a quick pile of dirty clothes, and went across the room to select a couple of extra garments from his father’s pile – just to fill up the load.

The washer took fifty minutes to finish cycling and, once he had moved everything into to the dryer and filled it with enough coins, he decided to take a chance and run back up to his apartment to wash the bleach out of his hair. Probably it was still early enough in the morning, and nobody who was up cared enough to steal his wet, ratty clothes from the dryer in the ten minutes he’d be gone.

Once the laundry was done, and his hair was washed and rubbed dry – the roots considerably lighter – he dressed himself in the green tee and jeans and freshly dried boxers, and headed out for the market.

When he got back to the apartment, it was ten am, and his father was gone. Joey went to replace the newly bought groceries in the fridge, but was stopped by the wet and alarming smell of sake.

He looked down at the kitchen’s linoleum floor, where shards of broken glass and a puddle of alcohol greeted him. It was lucky he noticed, before he stepped in it.

He walked carefully around it, and pulled open the refrigerator door.

Three of the sake bottles that had been there last night were gone, including the one that he’d used half of making dinner. Presumably this was the one in pieces on the kitchen floor.

 _Don’t have the guts to throw it at me anymore, eh, old man?_ Joey though. _Predictable._

Joey snorted and loaded the groceries into the fridge, carefully avoiding the mouldy avocado. It was just a few things – leeks, a new packet of eggs, and a tiny bit of beef. He’d also bought a package of potatoes and blocks of curry sauce, but those didn’t require refrigeration.

He left the glass and sake on the floor. He’d spent too long dawdling this morning already. There was only so long he could put off heading to Kaiba Corp and, with that in mind, he gathered himself and left to catch the train over to the financial district.

==

The Kaiba Corp building would have been easy to find, even without the address, because there were no other buildings flanked by three Blue Eyes White Dragon statues. Kaiba had upgraded them, since the last time Joey had been unfortunate enough to pass by his monstrosity of a skyscraper.

The first Blue Eyes stood on a raised platform in the plaza in front of the building. It crawled on all fours, with its wings spread wide above it. It seemed to watch the passers-by, moving in and out of the building, with a suspicion and distrust that only barely served to hide its amusement.

It wasn’t much different from the way everyone else was eyeing Joey, as he made his way up to the entrance. Next to the primly dressed salarymen and office ladies, his messy hair and sloppy attire stood out tremendously.

He scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets. He hunched his shoulders as he made his way up to the revolving doors at Kaiba Corp’s entrance.

The second Blue Eyes lay over the awning of the building. It seemed to be resting, pressed up against the building with its wings folded. But its neck craned down under the platform it was resting on, above the revolving doors, and its face was frozen in the middle of an angry roar. It bared its teeth eagerly at every person moving through the entrance.

Joey looked up, unimpressed, at the intimidation tactic.

The third Blue Eyes, Joey had seen first. It was the largest of the three, and it was perched on top of the building itself, with its body wrapped all the way around the upper floors. Its tail was curled against the glass windows, and in one or two places its claws punctured through the side of the building itself, and the walls had been resealed around it.

Joey wondered if Kaiba could tell his Blue Eyes cards apart. Did he know them by the tiny scratches on the back of the card, by the grain of the paper, by the way the ink had panned unevenly to make their image, or by slight differences in the holograms they produced? Or did he only know when he saw the little numbers etched in the bottom of the card? _Limited edition: 2/4. 3/4. 4/4._ Card number one was still with Sugoroku, taped together.

Joey looked back at all three Blue Eyes statues again, before he entered the building.

 _Well, at least it makes the place stand out_ , Joey thought.

The inside of the building was much more normal. At least it seemed like it was to Joey, who admittedly hadn’t been inside too many office buildings.

(The only other one he could clearly remember was the Industrial Illusions headquarters in America, and anything run by Pegasus probably wasn’t the best indicator of what was normal.)

Kaiba Corp’s entry hall was spacious, with a high ceiling, and was painted white with light blue accents. There was a long carpeted aisle heading up to the reception desk, flanked by potted plants. And, to each side, there was seating for guests and employees and business partners.

Past the reception desk, the hall diverged in two separate directions, into rows of elevators that would take people up the east and west wings of the building.

There were two young women working at the reception desk, both with long hair and dressed in business attire. A small queue had formed in front of the desk, and they were working quickly to accommodate the visitors.

Joey thought about cutting straight back to the elevators, but the building was gigantic, he only had a vague idea of where to go, and there was a sign next to the reception desk that prompted all visitors to register at the front desk and pick up a keycard. Keycards that all the employees seemed to have in their hands, or around their wrists, or hanging on lanyards around their necks.

 _Fine. I’ll play by your rules, Kaiba,_ Joey allowed, as he lined up at the desk.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and slouched angrily. There were two people in front of him, and the line was moving fairly fast, but the person in back of him cut in front of him when he wasn’t looking. And, by the time Joey noticed, he was already at the desk and throwing a smug grin back at Joey.

“Why you?!” Joey started, waving his fist, but the other receptionist had just been freed up, so Joey just grumbled and decided to let it go when she beckoned him forward.

“Welcome to Kaiba Corperation!” she greeted, bowing briefly to Joey. “How can we help you today?”

“Uhh…”

Joey blinked.

Why was he here again? _Something-something_ , _blah-blah-blah_ about checking in for Yuugi to see if Kaiba, in the last four years, had grown any more susceptible to the power of friendship? That didn’t exactly seem like something that would get him up to see the boss-man though.

_Oh, right._

“I’m here about a… job interview?” he said unsurely.

The receptionist took it in stride. She smiled sweetly, and her cheeks dimpled.

_She was really pretty._

“With which department? Just with general building management? Or are you applying for a position in one of the creative divisions?” she asked. “What’s your appointment time?”

“Uhhhh…”

Joey hiked up his t-shirt and pulled his wallet out of the back pocket on his jeans. He paused over the pictures of Mai and Serenity before removing the business card Kaiba had signed.

“It’s… not exactly a traditional interview.” He glanced nervously to the sides. “Er, somebody I know offered me a position and just handed me this card.”

The woman blinked with poorly concealed scepticism, but she accepted the card without a word.

 _Geez,_ Joey thought. _Not only is she pretty. She’s really nice too… Who knew Kaiba had it in him…_

The woman studied the card. She flipped it over in her hands, once, twice, thrice.

She bit her lip.

“I’m going to have to get a scan of this card,” she finally decided. “Please wait here for a minute, sir.”

She stood and bowed to him shortly, before going to tap the other receptionist on the shoulder, signalling that she would be back shortly. Then, she glanced to a pair of security guards on the side of the room, looked pointedly back at Joey, and nodded to the guards again before disappearing into the back room.

 _Pretty, nice, but a tough cookie too._ Joey tisked. _Friggin Kaiba had it all._

He crossed his arms and slouched against the reception desk. There were two stacks of fliers to the side of the desk. One was a multi-coloured advert listing upcoming product releases. The other was an official statement on the company’s ‘Personal and Corporate Privacy Policies’.

 _Shit, what am I doing?_  Joey wondered. He glanced back down at his wallet again, and reminded himself he was doing this for Yuugi and Mai, and stuff. So he couldn’t just make a break for the door now.

The receptionist reappeared from the back room. She bowed briefly to Joey and sat back down. She turned to the computer she had behind the desk, and started clicking furiously. Joey’s Kaiba Corp business card was still clutched tightly in her hand.

Her eyes widened slightly as she completed what she was doing.

“The handwriting was a match,” she concluded. She held the card up and looked Joey straight in the eye. “This _is_ Kaiba-sama’s signature?” she quarried.

“We’re, uh, old friends,” Joey replied dully. _Or close enough._

The woman nodded in agreement.

“So, what you’re telling me is Kaiba-sama personally offered you a job?”

Joey laughed nervously. “That’s what he said.”

The receptionist nodded seriously. “That’s strange. I thought Kaiba-sama finished with the last of the rehires a week ago…” she mumbled. “Hmm, but we are still low on staff…”

Her brow furrowed, like she was deep in thought, before she seemed to realise her place. She blinked and smiled up at Joey.

“Excuse me, do you have any identification on you? May I see it please?”

“Huh? Oh-!  Sure. Just gimme a-”

He flipped through his wallet, and pulled out his old school ID, and offered it over the counter.

The receptionist’s brow furrowed, but she accepted it. If she recognised the name _Domino High_ , she said nothing about it.

She placed the ID on her keyboard and her fingernails clattered against the keyboard.

“‘Wheeler’? In English, correct?” she asked. “I’m running you against the system database. Are there any other names you might go by?”

Joey shrugged. “Jounouchi? …Or Kawai, maybe?”

_Or dumb dog._

“Hmm- No, wait- Never mind- It’s returning a match in the more general records.” She turned to study Joey, looked back to the screen, and then back to him again with a puzzled look on her face. “I… guess I can let you through,” she said. “You certainly have an… interesting set of security clearances.”

She picked up his student ID, shuffled it together with the Kaiba Corp business card, and held them back out to Joey with both hands.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joey said, as he reached forward to accept them.

The receptionist brushed off his question. She picked up a lanyard with a keycard and swiped it through a slot next to the computer.

“This is a temporary keycard,” she explained, launching into some practiced spiel. “You’ll need to return it at the end of your visit today. If your association with Kaiba Corp becomes more permanent, you’ll be assigned your own personal card but – until that time – you’ll need to check in at the reception desk on a daily basis.”

Joey nodded dumbly. He reached out his hand to accept the card, but the woman held it back.

“You’ll need to swipe your keycard to gain access to the elevators, and swipe again on the panel inside the elevator when exit onto your floor. If you follow someone else on or off the elevator without having properly swiped your keycard, you will be blocked from exiting on any floor except this one. You’ll have to come back down to the lobby, swipe your card on the panel outside, and _then_ take the elevator back up _again_.”

Joey gave an exasperated shake of his head.

The receptionist shrugged and gave him a knowing look.

She handed over the keycard and, together, they commiserated.

“Now. You can’t access the Kaiba Corp upper levels from these elevators here. You need to take them up as high as they go, to the forty-fifth floor – which is the start of the Research and Development division.”

The woman reached for one of the fliers on the desk and flipped it over. Using a pen from the desk, she began drawing a crude map.

“According to your profile here,” she gestured towards the computer, “you _don’t_ actually have access to the individual rooms in R &D. _But_ you _do_ have access to the corridors and the central elevator. The central elevator only services the private parking garage and the upper twenty-one floors of Kaiba Corp. So-” she labelled her map and drew a route through it with her pen. “You’ll walk this way from the elevator in the west wing, and take the central elevator, _here_ , all the way to the top, to the sixty-fifth floor.”

It was a lot to take in. Joey let himself bask in the overload of information.

“From there, it’s pretty straight-forward,” the receptionist reassured. “Talk to Kaiba-sama’s personal secretary, and good luck getting an appointment!”

“This is absolutely insane,” Joey said.

The woman smiled as she handed him the map. “We hope you enjoy today’s visit to Kaiba Corp!” she trilled, and bowed one last time, before shooing him off to the left.

There were three separate elevators that serviced the west wing of the Kaiba Corp central headquarters, and Joey was piled into an elevator with two dozen other employees.

About half of them were gone by the time they reached the tenth floor and, by the time they reached the twentieth, Joey was feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

He was the youngest, the blondest, and the most casually dressed person on the elevator, and everybody seemed very aware of this by the time there were only five of them left.

When they reached the thirty-second floor, and the third to last person exited the elevator, Joey stepped forward and pressed the button for the forty-fifth floor. 

The other man, an older gentleman with a heavy blue suit and a striped tie grinned at him disingenuously.

“You _do_ realise, young man, that you’ll need clearance to get up to the higher levels?”

Joey gave a wide grin and tapped his visitor pass.

The man gave him a sceptical look, but he left the elevator on the thirty-eighth floor without another word.

When he was gone, Joey allowed himself to frown.

_Higher clearance than you, asshole._

When the elevator finally stopped on the forty-fifth floor, Joey slid the keycard against the panel in the elevator, and the doors slid open.

The forty-fifth floor was eerily quiet.

There was a central corridor that connected rows of laboratory and product display rooms, with clear windows. Except, it seemed like Joey was the only person on the entire floor. The labs were littered with what looked like abandoned projects and blank computer screens. Joey’s footsteps echoed in the hall, as he traced the path the receptionist had outlined on the map.

The central elevator was empty, except for Joey, and it didn’t stop on any of the intermediate floors between the forty-fifth and the sixty-fifth. The elevator doors opened, not to offices or labs, but to the centre of an expansive sky lounge. The room was littered with neatly arranged enclaves of plush sofas, little stools, and coffee tables. There were security posts, and what looked to be a restaurant and bar built into one side of the lounge. And there was a fountain in the centre, not far from the elevator, centred around a statue in the shape of a Water Omotics card.

The fountain was dry, and all the seats and security posts – empty.

Still, the room’s most impressive feature remained: the view.

There were glass walls on three sides of the lounge, and the entire city could be seen out the windows – the curl of the shoreline and, inland, the rise of the mountains. And, if he started looking, Joey was sure he could find every building from the Kaiba mansion, to the Kame Game shop, to his own run-down apartment complex in the patchwork of the city blocks. The only obstacle to pinpointing their location, were the places where the giant Blue Eyes statue curled in front of the windows and spread its massive wings.

It was beautiful, in a way Joey hadn’t quite expected.

Joey stumbled through the lounge. The room was lopsided in the way it curved around the elevator shaft. One side extended all the way out to the edge of the skyscraper, but the other stopped against a large white wall, and single blue door. Joey headed towards it, and unlocked it with his keycard.

On the other side, was a small waiting room. There was a set of double doors to the back and, before it, a several sets of desks, only one of which was occupied by a secretary.

“Hello,” Joey called. He stepped forward into the room, up to the desk.

The secretary looked up at him. She was a little older than the receptionists downstairs, but only slightly. Her hair was cut in an attractive bob.

“Mr Wheeler, correct?” she asked. “Keiko-san at the front desk called to let me know you were coming.”

She looked at him critically.

“Oh, good,” Joey sighed. “So, uh, can I see Kaiba or what?”

“You don’t have a job interview scheduled in the books. Even if you are here on Kaiba-sama’s personal recommendation, I’m not really sure I can fit you in his schedule for today,” the secretary said. “It would have been better if you called in advance.”

“To be honest, it should only take a second,” Joey admitted. He was mostly here just to check up on Kaiba at Yuugi’s insistence, after all. “And I was told just to drop by, anyhow.”

The secretary frowned. “Kaiba-sama is about to leave for a meeting. I can’t say whether or not he’ll have time for you when he gets back, but I’m also under orders not to disturb him in the meantime. Given that, it might be better if you left your contact information, and returned after we’ve had the chance to call you back.”

“C’mon,” Joey protested, giving his most pathetic smile. “This place isn’t exactly on my normal paper route. I’m sure he can find a minute somewhere.”

The secretary seemed unimpressed with this. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re just going to have to-”

Joey was saved from further indignities by the appearance of the man himself.

Kaiba burst through the set of double doors on the other side of the secretary’s desk. His trench coat flared behind him, and he was carrying a shiny new metal briefcase.

His eyes passed right over Joey.

Then he did a double-take. A mild look of confusion passed through his eyes. Then his eyes narrowed. Kaiba glared.

“Leave,” he said succinctly, before walking past.

Joey gaped. He clenched his fists, going red with anger.

“Um, would you like me to call security, Kaiba-sama?” he heard the secretary saying.

Kaiba grunted unenthusiastically. But, before the secretary could properly interpret that, Joey took off after him.

He ran up next to Kaiba “What do you _mean_ , ‘leave’?!” he bellowed. “I came all this way to see you, you jerk! Don’t I at least get a hello?!”

Kaiba’s silence was answer enough. He pushed open one of the white double doors, and strode ahead into the lounge, towards the elevators. Joey was right behind him, pushing open the adjacent door and running up to his side.

Surrounded by glass, the panoramic view of the city, and the curling body of the Blue Eyes statue, Joey felt dizzy – something that was not helped by his circuitous search for words. The search for words he could use against Kaiba.

“Heartless backstabbing money-grabber!” he tried. “You think you can just order people around, jerk them around, and then tell them to buzz off?! Well, not Joey Wheeler you can’t!”

Kaiba took another couple of long, brisk strides. And between the yelling and having to jog to keep up, Joey was aware he was panting.

And then, without turning around, Kaiba spoke.

“You’re late.”

It seemed like a non-sequitur. Joey huffed. “Wha-?”

Kaiba turned on his heel, and Joey stopped in his tracks.

“You’re three weeks late, Wheeler.” Kaiba was glaring down at him with all the disgust and contempt Joey had come to expect. “You can’t show up three weeks late to an interview, and still expect to get the job!”

Well, yes, as a hiring policy that made good sense, but-

Joey imagined Kaiba sitting in his office, for a whole week after their impromptu meeting at the convenience store, looking at the clock, waiting anxiously for Joey to arrive.

 _Yeah, right!_ Joey snorted. _And Kaiba also volunteers at the community centre in his spare time, and adopts orphaned kittens off the street._

Joey straightened his posture, and met the intensity of Kaiba’s glare.

“The _hell_ I can’t!” Joey protested. “I _told_ you last time I already had a job! You’re the one who just threw a business card at me, asked me to drop by, and then walked off without any consideration for _my_ schedule! So that means I can show up whenever I want for a job!” he declared triumphantly.

This made absolutely no sense so, of course, Kaiba ignored it. He turned and walked away, up to the elevator – where he swiped his keycard and walked ahead into the lift.

“Don’t just walk away from me!” Joey yelled, swiping his own keycard in return and piling into the elevator after Kaiba. The doors shut behind him. “You’ve got some nerve-”

A jingle rang through the enclosed space. Kaiba rustled through the pockets of his coat and retrieved his phone. He sneered when he looked at the screen.

Joey was still ranting, but Kaiba cut him off with a sharp look.

“Excuse me. I have to take this,” he said.

“Eh?” Joey said, thrown off by Kaiba’s sudden politeness. “Sure,” he agreed, even though Kaiba hadn’t waited for a response, and was already answering the call.

The elevator was descending.

“Kaiba Seto speaking… Yes, I was pretty sure you had already confirmed with my secretary.” He paused. Then- “It _should_ be enough for a drudge like yourself!” Kaiba snapped.

Joey stood in the elevator. He fidgeted awkwardly, readjusting his weight on his heels, as he listened to Kaiba bark at the phone.

“Yes, I’ll be leaving shortly,” Kaiba continued. He checked his watch subtly. “Traffic can be unpredictable. …Then tell him to _wait_!” Kaiba yelled suddenly. “I’m not going to have the head of a second-rate start-up company order me around! Tell that old- _I’m not finished_!” he hissed venomously. “Tell that old _idiot_ that he can argue about seniority all he likes, but he can’t argue with the numbers! This is _not_ a meeting of equals, and if he thinks he’s the one with the upper hand, you might want to have him checked out for _dementia_!”

There was a pause, during which Joey was very aware of the crinkle in Kaiba’s brow, and the beat of his own heart.

“End of discussion,” Kaiba snapped. “If you want the support of Kaiba Corp, you’ll sit still and _shut up_!”

The elevator halted to a stop at the fifty-third floor, and Kaiba slammed his phone shut and stormed off the elevator, swiping his keycard as he went.

Joey followed after him.

The fifty-third floor, unlike the forty-fifth or the top office, was actually populated with workers. There weren’t an excessive number, but Joey could see them moving behind dark windows and locked doors, cloistered in the private labs off the main hall. Even in the hall itself, a few employees passed by in business wear and lab coats, carrying files and pieces of machinery. When they noticed Kaiba, they moved out of his way, bowed their heads, and gave their greetings.

Joey flushed and pulled closer to Kaiba’s side, in an attempt to hide himself from their scrutiny.

“Heh~” Joey said lamely. “What was that all about?” he asked, referring to the phone call.

“You’re not getting a job, Wheeler!” Kaiba snarled.

Joey bristled. “Yeah, so?!” he shouted. “That doesn’t mean I’m finished with you yet!”

Kaiba stopped in front of one of the private labs, and swiped his keycard against the lock. It beeped open. Kaiba strode through, and quickly tried to close the door behind him.

“Quit ignoring me, Kaiba!” Joey shoved his foot in the door jam and squeezed into the room. “Fucking rich bastard,” he grumbled.

Kaiba was flagging down a lab worker. “Where’s Nishimori?” he demanded. “Is the prototype ready?”

“I’m right here!” Somebody walked up, carrying a case with what looked like something between a watch and a phone, with a brightly coloured wristband.

“Hn,” Kaiba grunted. “I’ve been working on the presentation. Anything last minute to add?”

“Do you want me to brief you?” Nishimori asked. “…In company?” he glanced briefly at Joey, who was standing behind Kaiba and eyeing the wristband curiously.

Kaiba glanced back and met Joey’s eyes with derision.

“Ignore him,” Kaiba said turning back to Nishimori. “If you pay a stray dog any attention, it’ll never stop bothering you for scraps.”

“Hey-! I’m not a dog!” Joey protested.

“Very well, Kaiba-sama.” Nishimori bowed. “I’ve changed the electrical output like you requested, and added a working prototype of the time feature. The use of Solid Vision technology should allow the user to interact with the applications in superficial manners such as…”

It sounded complicated, so Joey started to tune it out. He blinked down at the phone-watch thing.

Kaiba was evidently satisfied because, after a minute, he shut the case and shuffled it around to carry it in the same hand that was grasping the other briefcase.

Nishimori handed him a compact disk.

“This disk has the basic outlines for the recent changes, and the current product parameters.”

“I’ll review it on my way there, and update my presentation,” Kaiba agreed. He took the disk and slid it into one of the briefcases.

“Good luck, Kaiba-sama,” Nishimori bows.

“Hn,” Kaiba grumbled, as he turned back to the door. His eyes caught Joey’s on the way out. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

Joey decided to leave that one alone. He followed Kaiba back out into the hall.

Kaiba walked briskly through the corridor, ignoring the greetings of his workers.

“Kaiba,” Joey called. “You can talk now, right? Kaiba. Kaaaaaiiiiba.”

He poked Kaiba’s shoulder. Once. Twice. The third time, Kaiba finally slapped his hand away, but otherwise ignored him.

Joey felt his rage build again. He ran in front of Kaiba and grabbed him by the collar.

He tilted Kaiba’s hard expression downwards.

“You better cut it out, moneybags!” Joey commanded. “I’m not leaving until- until- until you tell me _what the hell your problem is_!” he decided. “You don’t just get to call me all the way out here, and then spend the whole time disrespecting me like this!”

Kaiba reached up, grabbed the lobe of Joey’s ear and twisted.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” Joey whined.

It didn’t really hurt that badly. But Joey let go of Kaiba’s collar and let Kaiba twist his head down by the ear. It was better than being ignored at least.

“Wheeler, this is a place of _work_!” Kaiba hissed. “You will not make a _scene_ in front of my employees!”

He dragged Joey by the ear, back to the elevator, where he swiped his keycard. Once the door opened, he shoved Joey forward, releasing his ear, and kicked him in the back of his calf, so he stumbled ahead into the lift.

Kaiba followed in shortly behind him, and pressed the button at the very bottom of the panel.

Joey cradled his ear, and the elevator descended.

There was nothing but silence for a moment, as the elevator beeped down through the floors.  The beeping stopped, once they reached the forty-fifth floor, as the elevator prepared for a more rapid plunge to the basement.

Joey sighed.

“Kaiba…” he tried, more gently this time.

Kaiba wasn’t having it though. He swung around to face Joey. The briefcases swung in his left hand.

“Let me make this very _simple_ for you, Wheeler,” Kaiba snarled, “since we _all_ know that’s all your pitiful little brain can take!”

Joey found himself squaring his shoulders, and turning to face Kaiba.

“I don’t know what possessed me a month ago, when I decided to offer you a job,” Kaiba continued. “And I know even _less_ what possessed me _not_ to update your Kaiba Corp security file, and have you banned from entering this building. But, _believe_ me, I do _not_ want you here,” Kaiba assured. “I was nothing but _ecstatic_ for every day you decided not to show your mangy face. And my _only_ regret, is that it lulled me into a false sense of security – that I actually let myself believe I’d never be saddled with your pathetic ass another day in my life!”

The elevator seemed to descend faster and faster. Joey frowned.

“But, what can I say?” Kaiba laughed bitterly. “I should have known that you’d show up here, begging me for work after you lost whatever joke of a job you were working before this… Because that’s what deadbeats do, Wheeler,” he trilled mockingly. “And you _are_ a deadbeat.”

Joey felt his shoulders tremble, just slightly.

Kaiba still wasn’t done.

“You were never going to make anything of yourself. You’re a worthless, crummy piece of _shit_!” Kaiba snarled. “You fuck things up for everyone you’ve ever cared about! And, in the entirety of your life, you’ve never done one tiny, _single_ thing _right_!”

Kaiba actually yelled the last word. His shoulders were the ones trembling now.

Joey just stood, dazed, and bit the inside of his lip. Maybe, just a little bit, it stung.

The elevator abruptly halted to a stop. Kaiba swiped his keycard against the elevator panel, and the doors slid open to an underground garage and a fleet of company cars.

But, before he could walk out, Joey swiped his own keycard.

The panel beeped red, and the elevator doors slammed shut in Kaiba’s face.

 _Unregistered individual. Access denied,_ the panel beeped. _Please select a neutral floor._

There was silence for a minute, and then.

“You didn’t swipe your keycard getting onto the elevator. Did you, Wheeler?” Kaiba asked, without turning around.

Joey thought back to what had happened a few moments ago. “Hey! You’re the one who dragged me by the ear and kicked me on before I could swipe it!” he accused.

He paused a minute. Then...

“Your security system _sucks_ , Kaiba!” Joey screamed, as loudly as he could.

“My security system is state of the art!” Kaiba yelled back angrily. He flipped open the panel, and keyed in a numerical code.

 _Override code accepted,_ the panel beeped. The elevator doors opened.

“Hh- Yeah!” Joey spat sarcastically. “You only think that because you know what the override code is! If you had to deal with it like everybody else, you’d realise that it’s the stupidest, most annoying security system known to man! And what’s to stop me from beating the crap out of someone and stealing _their_ security card?! It’s _dumb_! You’re _dumb_!”

“Shut up,” Kaiba said, walking out into the garage. “I’m-”

He was interrupted, once again, by his ringing cell phone.

“Excuse me,” Kaiba said quickly. He set his briefcases down on the concrete and flipped open his phone.

“ _What?!_ ” he hissed into the microphone.

Kaiba’s expression changed as soon as he heard an answer.

“Why are you calling from this phone?!” Kaiba asked, frantically. “Did something happen?! Are you okay?!”

 _One mystery solved_ , Joey thought. There was only one person in the world whose okay-ness Kaiba was concerned about.

This was also not a person Joey expected Kaiba to express anger to, which is why it was surprising that the next words out of Kaiba’s mouth were an outraged: “You – _what_?!”

There was a brief silence, and then…

“I heard what you said!” Kaiba snapped. “You can’t _order_ people to shoot themselves in the _foot_.” Another pause. “ _No_ , I don’t care what I did back then! I’m _not_ an _example_!”

Joey watched as Kaiba lost himself in the phone call. Around him, the dim light of the garage cast Kaiba’s face in grotesque shadows. Behind him, Joey studied the pristine lines of white and black cars.

Joey turned back at the elevator. The elevator doors were closed again, and the digital numbers flashing above its doors indicated it was crawling back up to the forty-seventh floor.

Next to the elevator, was a locked panel of car keys attached to numbered keychains.

Kaiba was struggling through his phone call.

“I _know_ you knew he wouldn’t do it,” Kaiba said. “ _That’s_ the issue, here. You orchestrated this purposefully!” Kaiba groaned and ran a hand through his hair, before brushing this off. “I can’t discuss this now,” he decided. “I’ll pick you up after you’re done with cram school.”

This apparently didn’t go over that well.

“We’ve been over this,” Kaiba said firmly. “There are a limited number of security measures I am able to successfully manage at this time. It is a controlled environment. And you can never be too prepared in your studies-”

This _really_ didn’t go over that well.

“You are being a petulant child!” Kaiba hissed. “I don’t care how smart you _think_ you are! You will-”

Kaiba’s eyes suddenly widened. He blinked, pulled the phone away from his cheek, and looked, shocked, at the flashing screen left by the aborted call.

 _Holy shit, they hung up on him_ , Joey marvelled.

Kaiba was shaking again. He flipped the phone closed, and clenched it in his fist. For a second, Joey could have sworn he was about to throw it to the ground. But at the last minute Kaiba flipped the phone in his hand, with amazing dexterity and finesse, and shoved it back into his coat pocket.

Joey wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

“Er, Kaiba?” he tried. He meant to sound comforting.

Kaiba pulled himself together in record time. He dug through his pocket and pulled out another business card and a pen.

“Fine!” he hissed. “You want a job so badly, Wheeler?!” He scribbled something on the card. “Go pick up Mokuba from school. Here’s the address and the nearest cross streets.”

He shoved the card at Joey.

Joey felt uninclined to take it.

“What? How-?”

Kaiba grabbed Joey’s hand and forced the card into it.

“You will _eat_ this card once you’ve found the location,” he warned dangerously. “I _mean_ it, Wheeler. You will _eat the paper_ , and _digest_ it.”

Kaiba let go of his hand, and Joey looked down at the card unsurely. He made a mental note to be very careful ripping it up and throwing it away later.

“Uh, sure, Kaiba,” he agreed. “But, how exactly am I going to get over there?”

“You are in a garage _full_ of company cars,” Kaiba said, gesturing angrily at their surroundings. “ _Pick one_.”

When Joey didn’t take this invitation, Kaiba grabbed a hold of the lanyard and keycard hanging from Joey’s neck and yanked harshly.

Joey gagged, but he let Kaiba lead him over to the panel of keys next to the elevator. He swiped Joey’s keycard against the lock, removed car key number four, and threw it at Joey.

Joey caught the key in his hand, and rubbed at his neck.

“The parking spaces are numbered. Return it when you’re done,” Kaiba commanded.

“Uh, Kaiba…” Joey protested. “I don’t have a licence.”

Kaiba looked at him blankly for a minute, then sighed.

“Of course you don’t,” he agreed. “ _Idiot._ ”

“Hey!” Joey growled in protest. But Kaiba had already pulled out his phone again and punched in a call.

“Satou! I need you to send a driver down for Wheeler. Somebody from security. Unarmed.”

Kaiba tapped his fingers impatiently against his arm.

“Yes, it’s the Mr Wheeler you just saw follow me out of my office.” There was a pause. “Yes! He’s an acquaintance!” Kaiba shouted. “Use your head, Satou! His profile’s in the computers for a reason! Just hurry up and send the damn driver!”

Kaiba slapped the phone shut with unnecessary force, and there was something unreasonably funny about it. Something about Kaiba calling him an acquaintance, probably.

Joey couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up through his throat.

Kaiba didn’t find this nearly so funny. He advanced on Joey. And he was the one to grab Joey’s collar, and drag his face up this time.

“Wheeler, if _anything_ happens to my brother while you’re with him. I will _hunt you down_ and _personally_ see to it that your head is removed from your shoulders.”

 _Yes, that wasn’t quite so funny._ Joey’s laughter died in his throat. He let an ugly sneer take over his face.

“Yeah, that kind of goes without saying,” Joey agreed. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am. Now… get off me,” he said.

And then he kneed Kaiba in the gut. Not as hard as he could have. But hard enough.

Kaiba keeled over, and maybe it was just the pain, but something seemed to get through, because Kaiba nodded. He collected himself, stood up straight. And Joey watched as his features rearranged into their usual cold and calm configuration.

Without another word, Kaiba picked up his briefcases, and walked off to where his private vehicle was waiting.

 


	4. Keycard, Curry; part two

 

Mokuba was, predictably, attending some very ritzy prep school that was so far out of Joey’s league he had previously had no idea it existed.

The driver had been quiet and patient and, after a couple of failed attempts trying to start a conversation, Joey just let him drive. Joey sat in the back of the car, and fiddled with the built in television and the seam on his leather seat.

When they neared the correct location, the driver parked in a nearby commercial district, and Joey was left to hike up to the school gates and catch Mokuba on the way out.

He was there a little early. And, worried about being singled out for loitering, Joey defiantly crossed his arms and leaned back against the brick wall surrounding the school. If the school security, or any nosy passers-by, had a problem, they didn’t act fast enough. School let out and, pretty soon, the entire block was filled with a sea of students.

Joey hadn’t seen Mokuba in five years, and it occurred to him that it was entirely possible he would miss picking Mokuba out from the line-up. After a couple of minutes, he was worried he’d _already_ missed him, but then Mokuba did walk out the gate and, despite all the differences, there was a level of recognition and realisation that Joey realised he couldn’t fake.

_Although-_

Puberty had, quite frankly, not been overly kind to Mokuba. His features were as fine and attractive as Joey remembered, but they were muted by the awkwardness of his lanky form. And his skin looked somehow both too greasy and too dry, patchy and unhealthily iridescent.

 _Give it a couple years_ , Joey reminded himself. He waved his arm up in the air and shouted.

“Hey, Mokuba! Over here!”

Mokuba blinked. He looked around, scanning the environment, before his eyes narrowed in on Joey.

He paused a moment, before running up to meet Joey.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he asked, disdainfully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joey said, brushing off the palpable dislike. “Your brother sent me to pick you up.”

“What- Since when-” Mokuba sighed, exasperated.

Another group of students emerged from the gates, and a male student jeered at Mokuba as he went by.

“Hey, Kaiba, who’s that? Your sugar daddy?”

Joey snorted at the absurdity of him being anybody’s sugar daddy, but Mokuba flinched.

“Piss off, Suzuki! I can ruin you!” Mokuba shouted after them. But the other group of students had already moved on, laughing all the way.

Mokuba sighed again, and rolled his eyes.

“They givin’ you a hard time?” Joey asked.

Mokuba glared at him. “Not too much of one,” he said. “They can’t afford to.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped through the contacts.

Joey struggled to remember some pearl of wisdom, saved from back in _his_ bullying days. But what had brought him and Yuugi together… that wasn’t something he knew how to express, much less replicate.

Mokuba, distracted by his phone, was still talking. “I let a couple comments drop that I shouldn’t have and… well, they misunderstood, of course.” He rolled his eyes again. “But it’s probably easier for Seto this way, so…”

Mokuba tapped a final few buttons on his phone, and held it up to his face.

“Hold on a minute,” he said dismissively to Joey. He walked away, back towards the school gates.

Joey shoved his hands inside his pockets and kicked at the cement. He watched as Mokuba paced back and forth on the other side of the pavement.

Eventually, Mokuba huffed and cut the call, and walked back over to Joey.

Joey grinned widely.

“Find anything out?” he asked.

“I asked my brother if he’d lost it. He said he was considering the possibility.”

“He actually took your call?” Joey replied mildly. “I’m surprised. I thought he was in a meeting.”

“Hn,” Mokuba huffed. “He was. Nii-sama always takes my calls.”

Mokuba glanced around. His eyes seemed to pass right through the other students that surrounded them.

“Where’d you park?” he asked, with just the slightest edge of frustration.

“Right this way, bocchan!” Joey snickered. He waved Mokuba ahead of him, leading down the pavement off to the east.

“Don’t call me that,” Mokuba snarled. But he walked forward without complaint.

Joey stuffed his hands in his pockets and slouched.

Mokuba stood up straight, with his head tilted upwards, carrying his book bag in his right hand.

They didn’t speak again until they were a couple of blocks away and inundated with a more neutral crowd than just students.

Joey coughed. He tried to choose a safe subject for small talk.

“So… how old are you now, Mokuba?”

Mokuba’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see why I should bother-”

“No, wait, don’t tell me!” Joey interrupted. He’d make this conversation work, even if Mokuba wasn’t feeling cooperative. “You’re five years younger than your brother, right? That would make you… seventeen?”

Mokuba grumbled.

“Last year of high school, then?” Joey continued brightly. “Aw, man! College apps! No wonder your brother’s all up in arms about cram school. What kind of score are you gonna need on the Centre Test?”

“No kind of score,” Mokuba replied curtly. “I’m applying out of the country.”

“Eh, really?! Where are you talkin’ about?”

A complex mix of emotions flitted over Mokuba’s face. He hesitated for a minute, before the urge to brag won out.

“Princeton. Oxford. Maybe Harvard Business. I haven’t decided yet.” Mokuba smirked. “Impressed, Joey?” He tilted his head up smugly.

Joey wasn’t really, but he whistled in appreciation anyhow. “Whoo- Must be difficult to get in there…” he marvelled.

Mokuba gave him a most unimpressed look. “My brother’s the CEO of Kaiba Corp,” he said, deadpan. “Even if I didn’t have top grades, I’d be guaranteed acceptance.”

“Oh,” Joey said dumbly.

They continued walking down the pavement. They were approaching the commercial area down from the school. The driver had parked in a loading zone, a couple of blocks over.

Joey thought about the two years Yuugi had struggled to pull together his test scores. He wondered if it was better to know, without a doubt, that you’d get in.

Joey glanced back at Mokuba.

“You’ve still got your hair long,” Joey noticed. He didn’t resist the urge to brush his fingers over the bottom fringe. The hair felt coarse and greasy. “‘S nice,” Joey said. “Guess you’ll have to cut it though, when you enter the workforce…”

 _Yeah, the same way Joey_ had _to stop bleaching his hair._

Mokuba turned and gave him another withering look. “I’m already the Vice President of Kaiba Corp,” Mokuba said scathingly. “Nobody’s going to try and enforce a dress code with me, if they value their job.”

“Oh, right,” Joey agreed.

Once Mokuba turned away, Joey winced. He lifted up an arm and scratched at the back of his head.

Even more than Kaiba, Mokuba had a way of making him feel _really_ dumb.

Joey directed them across the street, and Mokuba’s eyes zero-ed in on the Kaiba Corp company car parked against the curb. Joey didn’t bother helping Mokuba with the door, and instead piled around to enter the car from the street side. He slid into the back seat, next to where Mokuba had already seated himself.

Mokuba had his legs crossed, and was clutching his knee in both hands.

“Hn. Tsukuda-san is here. You’re not the driver,” Mokuba told Joey, pointing out the obvious. He turned to the front seat. “I don’t care what nii-sama told you. I’m not going to cram school. If you drive me there, I will jump out of this car while it’s still moving.”

Joey gulped. “Hey, c’mon, kid! There’s no reason to take it that far,” he protested.

This did not strike the driver, Tsukuda, with the same kind of brutal unnecessity.

“Of course, Kaiba-sama,” he assured, primly.

“Hn.”

Mokuba leaned back in his seat. He uncrossed his legs and hauled his book bag up onto his lap. He started to rifle through it.

“I’m sure you heard, I had Ueno dismissed today,” Mokuba said.

Joey didn’t know where this was going.

“Of course, Kaiba-sama,” Tsukuda repeated.

“I got a little something from him, before he took off,” Mokuba continued.

He pulled a shotgun out of his bag. He held it up slowly, so everyone in the car could see it, and then cocked it.

Tsukuda’s expression didn’t change in the rear-view mirror.

“Mokuba!” Joey warned firmly.

“Relax,” Mokuba said, still facing forward towards the driver’s seat. “Not a single shot’s been fired today. It’s still got a full round.”

In his head, Joey cycled through about a thousand different ways to wrestle the gun away from Mokuba. Joey had a history as a seasoned street fighter and Mokuba was still a pipsqueak – it would have been easy. Except for the part where Joey’s gut instinct was telling him to let Mokuba play through his little power trip. And Joey always listened to what his gut was telling him.

The gun was pointed carelessly down, towards the back of the driver’s seat.

“Not a single shot… Lucky, isn’t it, Tsukuda?” Mokuba asked.

Tsukuda closed his eyes and nodded.

“Yes, Kaiba-sama,” he said, without so much as a tremor in his voice.

Mokuba smiled and turned his head towards Joey.

“Are you relaxed, yet? …Or are you just scared?” he sneered.

Joey rolled his eyes. “I’m desensitised,” he lied, “after having spent too much time around you wackos.”

This seemed to be the right answer. Mokuba looked pleased. Very carefully, he disarmed the gun. He took ahold of the barrel of the gun, leaned forward in his seat, and offered it by the handle to Tsukuda.

Tsukuda took it, studied it for a few seconds, and then stashed it away in the glove compartment.

Joey held back a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go to Curry House!” Mokuba decided.

The abrupt change in tone hit Joey like a train.

“What? Why _Curry House_?”

Mokuba eyed him, with more of his usual disdain. “Because I’m hungry.”

==

Mokuba ended up choosing some weird-ass anime to watch on the car ride over to Curry House. It was about a bunch high-school girls that spent the entire time being very silly and hugging each other, but then it turned out to be strangely touching when Sakaki-chan made friends with a leopard cat. Joey felt himself start to tear up at one point, and they ended up just sitting in the parking lot of Curry House for an extra twenty minutes, after coming to a silent agreement to watch the next episode together.

After that, they went inside and reserved a pair of tables under Tsukuda’s name, and spent another twenty minutes waiting to be seated. Against Joey’s expectations, Mokuba didn’t seem the least bit bothered by having to wait. He sat quietly, arms crossed, in the lounge, and reassured the waiters that he didn’t mind waiting longer to get two adjacent booths – one for him and Joey, and a separate one for Tsukuda.

It was strange, sitting in the waiting area of a busy family restaurant with Mokuba. Joey wondered if Mokuba knew that curry was his favourite food and decided quickly that, if he didn’t know, Joey wasn’t going to rush to enlighten him. Doing so would probably only ensure that they never ate at Curry House ever again.

…Not that there would be an ‘again’ in the first place.

“I’ll have a kid’s omurice combo with ham, a chocolate parfait – bring it out with the rest of the meal, and coffee – black,” Mokuba ordered briskly, once they were seated. He tossed the menu away, and leaned both his elbows on the table. “What do you want, Joey?”

“Errr…” Joey squinted at the prices.

He was apparently very transparent, because Mokuba rolled his eyes. “You’re working right now, aren’t you? It’s on the company’s tab.”

“Uh… the fried shrimp deluxe,” Joey decided rapidly.

He handed the menu to the waitress with a sheepish grin. She smiled, and moved to the next booth over to take Tsukuda’s order.

Mokuba tapped his hand on the side of his book bag.

Joey felt his face go red. He’d given in to that a little too easily. He snickered, to distract from his own embarrassment.

“You ordered the kid’s meal,” he said, conspiratorially, to Mokuba. “Guess you’re not so grown up after all.”

Mokuba glared.

“It’s just a form of portion control,” he said hotly, before turning away to look out the window.

Joey snickered again.

“Hey, Mokuba? You remember that time you fed me a poisoned kid’s meal? That first time I came over to your place with Yuugi?”

Mokuba looked over at him sideways.

“What’s your _point_ , Joey?” he snapped dangerously.

“Nothin’, nothin’…” Joey conceded. He shook his head, lifted his arms in surrender, and tried to hide the laughter forming under his breath.

Joey couldn’t help but notice, when their meal came, that Mokuba tenderly plucked the plastic flag they had posted on top of his kid’s omelette and spun it in his fingers, before laying it neatly in his napkin. He ate thoroughly and delicately, taking small sips of corn potage and coffee, and tiny bites of parfait and omelette.

Joey, meanwhile, was trying and failing to pretend he didn’t love shrimp and curry as much as he did.

About halfway through the meal, Mokuba retrieved a notepad and a pen from his bag. He lined them up neatly on the table, and swallowed his last bite of parfait.

“So,” he asked, “what was your last place of employment?”

Joey had his mouth around a huge bite of curry and rice, and he grumbled loudly until he managed to swallow.

“What’s it to you?” he asked defensively. “I was working in a commercial warehouse. Lumber. And before that, I was bouncing at some Shibuya-wannabe club.”

Mokuba huffed and made a note on the paper. Joey could read it upside down.

_Experience: None._

“What’re you even doing?” he complained, making a lazy swipe for Mokuba’s pen. But Mokuba pulled his arm back out of the way, and grinned. And Joey gave up and took another bite of his curry.

“You’re on job trial, aren’t you?” Mokuba asked, smugly. “Bet nobody else at the office gave you an interview.”

Joey grumbled.

“Watch it, _Mokie_ ,” Joey sneered. “What do you need an interview for? We already know each other.”

Mokuba actually seemed to take that in. He frowned slightly, and tapped his pen against his hand.

Joey huffed. “Your brother’s not going to keep me on anyhow.” He grinned wryly.

“Hn. You don’t think so?” Mokuba asked.

“Listen, kid,” Joey said, scraping his spoon across his plate. “I could’ve told you this was a bad idea from the start and, after the way your brother was spitting fire today – it’s not gonna happen. The only reason I’m here is because he got all worked up about you… _You’re_ the only thing he _ever_ gets worked up about.”

Mokuba huffed. Joey wondered if Mokuba didn’t quite believe what he had said either.

“And, if the only thing I get out of it’s a free meal,” Joey grinned, “I’m happy.”

Mokuba huffed again, but this time the edge of his lip curled upward.

“It depends on what Seto wants you there for, I guess,” Mokuba said. “If it’s your technical skills – you’re beyond useless.”

“‘Ey! Quit talking shit!” Joey growled.

“If he’s trying to create a second Isono,” Mokuba continued, “then, good luck.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But… if it’s me…” Mokuba looked wistfully out the window for a second.

He placed his hand firmly against the notepad, waiting for an answer.

“What led you to apply for a job at Kaiba Corp?”

==

It was dark by the time Joey had seen Mokuba back to his home.

“Are you sure your brother’s still at the office?” Joey asked, as he dropped Mokuba off at the front steps of the Kaiba mansion.

“Where else would he be?” Mokuba said irritably, like it was downright impossible for Kaiba to be anywhere else.

It took a lot less time to ascend the heights of the Kaiba Corp central headquarters using the singular central elevator from the private parking garage. Joey found himself, once again, in the sky lounge. It had turned dark against the night sky, and under the looming shadow of the Blue Eyes statue on the building’s exterior.

In the next room, Kaiba’s private secretary frowned at him.

“Kaiba-sama has been expecting you,” she said. “Please take a seat, and I’ll alert him of your arrival.”

Joey sat in that waiting room. Everything, from the floor to the ceiling to the chairs, was plain white – a blank palette.

A minute later, the secretary called him.

“Go ahead,” she gestured towards the double doors leading into Kaiba’s private office.

There was a slot for a keycard on the door. Joey lifted the keycard and lanyard, still hanging around his neck, and gave the secretary a questioning look.

She frowned at him.

Joey slid the card against the lock. It beeped, and Joey turned the handle and stepped inside.

Kaiba’s office was large, arranged in a circular fashion against the side of the building. The head of the Blue Eyes statue was visible on the other side of the glass, turned away to ward off anything at might approach its master’s fortress from the outside.

One wall of the office was covered in bookshelves, the other had a large television screen built into it. It was currently turned off, and only reflected Joey’s awed face in its black depths. Under the screen was a plush looking divan, for lounging.

Behind and to the sides of the desk – which was large, easily six feet in length, and made of solid wood – were rows of ugly industrial filing cabinets. Next to one, was a large potted succulent plant. There were no other decorative items in the room. The vast majority of it was empty space and white carpet.

Kaiba hadn’t looked up, as Joey entered the room. He was typing on the computer, and Joey saw the tiny square reflection of the screen bounce off Kaiba’s eyes.

Joey waited. And, finally, Kaiba punched out the last of what he was typing, pressed the _Enter_ key violently, and looked up.

Joey realised he felt exactly as tired as Kaiba looked.

“Wheeler,” Kaiba said.

“Kaiba,” Joey mirrored.

They stood there for a moment. Then Kaiba sighed.

“The manor staff has alerted me that Mokuba made it home safely. I must-”

Joey watched as Kaiba’s Adam’s apple clenched. His words were garbled, like they caused him actual physical pain to say.

“I must _thank_ you for your assistance today.”

“Ah, no problem,” Joey said, unenthusiastically.

They stood there. Kaiba sitting at his desk with his hands crossed. Joey standing awkwardly in the middle of the too-large office.

Kaiba broke first.

“This isn’t going to work, Wheeler,” he rushed out.

 _Oh, thank god!_ Joey sighed.

Kaiba continued. “I never th- _thanked you_ for your assistance at the convenience store either, however trivial it was. But, in lieu of that, it was foolish of me to try and initiate a relationship with you, even and especially in a professional capacity. I’m not hiring you,” he said finally.

“Gotcha,” Joey agreed. “It was just- You weren’t thinking,” Joey explained for him.

“No.” Kaiba grimaced.

“However,” he continued, “you accepted a temporary job from me today, and I am eager to see the details of it wrapped up.”

Kaiba reached for a clipboard on his desk. He beckoned Joey forward and stood. He was clutching the clipboard so hard, his hand was almost white.

Joey reached forward to take it, and Kaiba let go.

“I need you to sign this paperwork,” Kaiba said. “It’s the company’s new disclosure and privacy policy. Basically, you reveal any photographs, documents, or anything else you might have learned here today at Kaiba Corp, or from my little brother, to the press, general public, or any private third parties, and it gives my lawyers free reign to make sure you never have another happy day in your life.”

“Pleasant,” Joey agreed, sarcastically. He accepted the clipboard and scanned the form. It seemed obtuse and complicated, but it wasn’t that long, only three pages or so and, from the gist of it, it was pretty much what Kaiba had said – a promise that Kaiba Corp wouldn’t disclose his personal information and, likewise, anything related to his work here was classified information. Joey wondered for a bit if Kaiba was trying to pull some dirty trick on him and, dismissing that idea, he spent a lot of extra time trying to decipher unusual arrangements of kanji, just so Kaiba wouldn’t think Joey trusted him too much.

Joey signed the form.

_He wasn’t a snitch._

Joey squinted at the adjacent fields of the form.

One was the date, which was already filled out for the day before – probably so this work day would fall under the contract. The next box…

“I don’t have a personal seal, you know,” he told Kaiba.

Kaiba sighed but, all the same, he popped open the inkpad he had ready in his hand.

“Use your right thumbprint,” he commanded.

Joey snorted. “Fingerprinting? How old school are you?” he asked. But he reached forward and pressed his thumb into the ink anyhow. It came away a bright red, like blood, and he pressed it against the appropriate field of the document, before handing the clipboard back to Kaiba.

Kaiba took it, signed under Joey in the ‘official company use’ section, reached for one of the Kaiba Corp company seals on his desk, and completed the paperwork.

“Do you require a photocopy?” he asked.

“Nah,” Joey snickered. “I think I’m good. I’ll leave all the legal crap to you squares.”

“Hn.” Kaiba grunted, as he took the documents and slid them into a folder on the side of his desk.

“I am aware,” he sneered, “that the problem with forms like these is that they hold no threat over deadbeats like you.”

“Hey! Watch it!” Joey protested.

Kaiba ignored this. “How can my legal department hold anything over you, when you’ve got nothing to lose, after all? For someone like me, to have to rely on the hope that an idiot like you will remember to act in your own best interests…” Kaiba snarled, but his eyes panned downward, away from Joey. His shoulders hunched defensively.

He reached for an envelope he had folded on the table and handed it up to Joey.

“Your wages for the day,” he specified. “There should be enough in there to remind you to keep your mouth shut.”

Joey snorted, but he accepted the envelope in one hand.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed. “Thanks for nothing, Kaiba.”

Kaiba said nothing to this, and Joey stepped back and didn’t pause before fumbling with the drawstring on the envelope.

He realised, belatedly, how thick the envelope was, as he fanned the bills out into his hand.

“It’s five million yen,” Kaiba said simply.

Joey had no idea if it actually was, but he had no reason to doubt it either. He had never in his life seen so many ten thousand yen bills in one place. He shuffled through the identical portraits of Fuzukawa. His breath caught, and his eyes widened like saucers.

Kaiba cleared his throat. “It should be more than sufficient. It was a pleasure working with you, Wheeler,” he said monotonously. “I’m sure you can find your way back down to the entrance.”

It was a clear dismissal. But Joey could only manage a couple more steps backwards. He was still staring at the envelope and the bills in his palm.

Five million yen. Almost double the amount he had won at Duellist Kingdom. It was enough to pay Serenity’s tuition for a whole semester. It was enough to buy Mai a diamond necklace and set of earrings, and pay their hotel bills many times over. It was enough to pay for rent on his apartment for... He couldn’t even calculate it. It would take _years_.

It could buy him fifty thousand lottery scratchers.

 _Just take the money,_ he whispered to himself. _Don’t say anything. Just fold the envelope, and put it in your pocket and walk out of here._

He tried to press the bills back inside the envelope, but their bulk caught in his hand and against the paper of the envelope.

 _This is everything you ever wanted,_ he reminded himself.

He grasped the envelope, creased it along the centre.

_I’m gonna to do it. I’m gonna walk out of here. I’m gonna walk right out of here, five million yen richer than when I got here this morning._

He was going to do it.

“You know, Kaiba…”

Joey smashed the envelope in his fist and hurled it as hard as he could over at Kaiba.

“You really _piss me off_!” Joey shouted. “It really blows my _eff-ing mind_ that you’ve known me since I was fifteen, but you somehow manage to know _absolutely nothing about me_!”

The bills flew out of the envelope and scattered in the air. They formed a mist between them – a mist of pale grey and ugly faces. But, beyond them, Joey could see the, now mostly empty, envelope hit the desk, and Kaiba’s empty expression.

Joey clenched his jaw, opened his mouth, and screamed.

“What?! You think this was a _fucking_ job?! You think this was about _money_?! You think _that’s_ why I wasted my time coming here today?!

“Do you think it’s about money, when you’re shouting at everybody on the phone and acting like the world’s ending because your kid brother doesn’t feel like going to cram school?!”

Kaiba just sat there, hands folded together on the desk.

“You _fucking asshole_! It was a _favour_! I went to pick up Mokuba as a goddamn _favour_ to you! And you don’t get to pretend it was anything else! You don’t get to pretend you _earned_ it somehow!”

Kaiba’s face was still blank. Joey already knew it didn’t matter how much he shouted.

 _He just_ couldn’t _get through._

He’d at least get the last word.

“I did you a _favour_ , _asshole_!” Joey yelled, one last time, before he turned on his heel, slammed the door open, and then slammed it shut right behind him.

Kaiba’s secretary was looking at him with wide, angry eyes.

 _I guess there’s no point in pretending she didn’t hear_.

Joey snarled, and exited the waiting room, back into the sky lounge.

_There’s no point._

Joey made it into the elevator, slid his keycard against the access panel, and stepped inside. He selected the forty-fifth floor, the lowest floor excepting the private parking garage, and watched the doors slide closed in front of him.

And then he promptly burst into tears.

He hiccupped and whimpered, and buried his face in his right forearm, and started bawling.

Because how much of an idiot was he? All the things he could have done for Mai and Serenity with that kind of money, and he had thrown it away. Quite literally. And for what? To try and make a point about himself to _fucking_ Kaiba? A point which Kaiba had made very clear over the years that he never intended to learn?

What kind of man was Joey, if he let his pride and Kaiba’s pig-headed idiocy get in the very real way of what he could do for his family and the people he cared about?

He was glad nobody else seemed inclined to use the elevator, as he sniffed and rubbed what seemed like an endless stream of tears from his eyes. He was vaguely aware that there was probably a security camera set up in the elevator, and that the Kaiba Corp security techs were probably laughing at him right about now – but _screw_ them anyway. He remembered being too afraid to cry, back when it was him and Hirutani. And he remembered being afraid even when it was just him and Honda – before he’d met Yuugi and almost lost Serenity her eyesight and he’d become overcome with such startling clarity and intensity of emotions that he just couldn’t manage to give a shit anymore. And Honda had made fun of him for a lot of things, but not for the waterworks. And the whole thing – all his worries about appearing unmanly – had seemed so stupid in retrospect.

He had tried to return Mai’s handkerchief one day, after he’d pulled it out to wipe his eyes after hearing some particularly touching story. He’d apologised for not having it washed, but it had been years, and she was probably never going to get it back if she didn’t just take it now. It seemed he never remembered he had it, until he needed it.

Mai had just looked at him inscrutably, and pressed the handkerchief back into his palm. She told him he apparently needed it a lot more than she did. And Joey felt vaguely embarrassed, but then Mai had leaned forward and kissed him under each eye. And the measured tenderness of the gesture struck him with such awe, he immediately stopped crying.

Even now, the memory of it shook him. It stemmed his tears.

This catharsis. Even given all his mistakes, he was still never going back to that time in middle school. This was progress.

The forty-fifth floor was as quiet as he remembered. And he _appreciated_ the quiet, even though it was also pretty creepy with the sun set outside, and the fluorescent lights buzzing above him in the hall. He rushed to the elevator that would take him back down to the lobby and, by the time it had stopped at a couple of floors to pick up another dozen passengers, Joey had more or less gotten over it.

He rubbed the redness out of his eyes.

It wasn’t as if he was any worse off than he had been this morning. Net profit – zero. Nothing lost. Nothing gained.

He’d start job searching for real tomorrow.

When he made it down to the lobby, he swiped his keycard against the panel, after a line of other departing workers.

He looked at it, the way _VISITOR_ was taped against the plastic.

_Right, he actually had to return it._

There was no line at the reception desk this time, and only one receptionist was stationed there. She was different from the ones he had seen in the morning, but she had the same type of young and pretty face. Her hair was pulled up in a bun and tied with a flowery handkerchief. And her makeup was neatly attended to.

She brightened when she saw Joey and beckoned him over even before he was all the way up to the desk.

Joey looked to his sides, self-consciously, like she might be calling someone else over. But it was only him, and he walked awkwardly up to the desk and pulled the keycard off from around his neck.

The receptionist bowed to him. “You’re the talk of the whole division today, Mr Wheeler,” she greeted. “It’s not everyday we get to send someone up to the top office – let alone a young men with bleached hair and an English name.”

Joey snorted.

“Well, don’t get used to it,” he said. “Looks like it’s gonna be a one-time thing after all.”

He rolled the lanyard around the keycard, and handed it over to the woman.

“Mmm, really?” the receptionist said lightly. “That’s too bad... Wait here, while I check you out of the system.”

Joey nodded. He leaned against the desk and waited patiently for her to finish.

She typed into the computer, and slid the keycard – once, twice – through the slot on her keyboard.

“So what’s he like anyway?” she asked.

Joey was already distracted. He was thinking about getting home, and dinner, and his father.

“Who?” he asked the receptionist.

“Kaiba-sama, of course!”

It still took him a moment to put that together.

Then Joey laughed. “What’re you asking me for? You know what he’s like. You _work_ with him, don’t you?”

The laugh died in his throat. _No, no she didn’t_ , he realised abruptly.

“Oh, I suppose,” the receptionist agreed. “We don’t see much of him though. He goes directly up to his office in the mornings and, even if he’s not holed up in there all day, he doesn’t often come down past the forty-fifth floor… So Satou-chan’s the only one who sees him on a daily basis.”

“Ah~” Joey floundered.

“He seems… polite, for the most part… if distant,” she said. “I think when all of us started the job, we had mad dreams that he might notice us and start some kind of workplace romance.” She laughed. “How silly, right? People aren’t what they are in romance novels. Especially businessmen. But, still, you have to indulge your dreams for as long as you can afford.”

And here Joey had thought Kaiba had picked out all these receptionists because he had a _type_. And it had kinda pissed him off. But the anger caused by Kaiba’s supposed vanity was nothing compared to the regret and disappointment left behind by this new revelation.

It was sort of sadder, that Kaiba had hired a bunch of nice, beautiful, feisty ladies, and he never even spoke to them.

“But we hear the craziest stories about him from the people we send up to see him!” the receptionist continued. “Mostly they say he’s a little bit…”

She trailed off tactfully.

“So what’s your story?” she prompted.

“About Kaiba?” Joey asked. “Er, He’s-”

 _He’s a self-absorbed, heartless jerk,_ was the first thing that came to mind. But it didn’t feel right to say that about Kaiba. Not right now. Not in front of the people he employed.

“Not much to tell,” Joey shrugged. “We went to high school together.”

“Really?” She seemed shocked.

“Yeah,” Joey laughed. “It’s hard to believe, but it’s true!”

“What was he like in high school?” the receptionist said eagerly.

Joey huffed. “Man, the bigger question is what the hell was _I_ like in high school?!”

“So tell me about that,” the receptionist said.

Joey’s elbow hit a stack of documents on the reception desk. His eye glanced over to it.

_Personal and Corporate Privacy Policies._

Joey grinned. He picked one up of the flyers and held it up, tauntingly, in the receptionist’s face.

“Hey, isn’t this against your own policy?” Joey asked. “Where do you get off calling me over here by name, and taking in all this information about my personal life?” he teased.

The receptionist snorted. She batted the paper away with her hand.

“Nobody cares about your privacy,” she said. “That’s just the higher ups covering all their bases after recent events.”

Joey flipped the privacy policy over and smiled at its bold two-facedness. He replaced the flyer in its pile.

“What recent events?” Joey didn’t ask.

Joey remembered it differently later. He’d confused himself, piling those first few conversations he’d had the receptionists together in his mind. Conversations with Keiko, Miyoshi, and Mami, and even with Satou-chan, sometime after she’d warmed up to him but before he really started seeing her as a person.

He remembered trying to divert attention away from the fact that he was horribly uninterested in keeping up with politics and current events, and that he never watched the news if he could help it. He came up with all sorts of excuses for why he was woefully uninformed about every single thing that had happened earlier that year, in February. But they hadn’t been fooled and, eager for an unsuspecting audience, they had spilled the whole story.

 _You didn’t know about it? There was a big security breach back in February_ , they had explained – in bits and pieces Joey could only piece together later. _Somebody on the inside was leaking classified files, apparently. What exactly the files were have been hushed up, but you can’t exactly keep everything quiet. I don’t know what or how it happened, but there was a shoot-out on one of the upper floors, and the company Vice President ended up getting shot through the arm._

 _What?_ Joey had said blankly. It had taken him a second to realise it wasn’t a joke. _Is Mokuba, okay?!_ And another second to realise that, of course, Mokuba was _okay_. He had seen Mokuba earlier that day, and the day before, and the day before that. And the dissonance between the amount Mokuba used his right arm, compared to his left, was small enough as to go unnoticed if you weren’t specifically looking for it.

He had shocked at least a couple of them early on, with the amount familiarity he had used when referring to Mokuba. No surname. No title. No honorific. Just _Mokuba_.

 _Y-yes,_ somebody had stuttered. _The Vice President was fine… He was with the best surgeons in the country within an hour. There were no complications._

There had been more than one discussion about how scary and dangerous the world was, today. Keiko had pouted and dragged out the word, _Scarrryyyy._ Miyoshi in particular was fond of long discussions about the apocalypse and the immediate dissolution of society at large. And Mami had admitted to him: _I was so scared, I almost quit. I know a lot of my co-workers did – those that weren’t kicked out anyway._

 _Everyone was on suspended employment for about a week,_ they admitted. _And most of us in the lower departments were brought back. But I know the upper floors were almost completely cleared out._

 _Yeah,_ Joey had laughed. _I hate having to run errands the upper floors. Most of them are so empty, especially at night, it’s spooky._

 _How did they even manage to sneak firearms past our security?!_ more than one person had said. But not Satou-chan, because she already knew the answer as well as Joey did.

 _They didn’t have to_ , Joey had almost replied, before he bit his tongue. He knew personally, after all, that Kaiba and his security detail kept stashes of illegal firearms. _Hell_ , Mokuba had practically waved a gun in his face that first day he started working at Kaiba Corp. But it was probably better not to let anybody else in on that bit of information.

The story had come to Joey in bits and pieces.

February eighteenth – Kaiba had failed to protect Mokuba. Shut down the entire company. Spent the next week firing almost everyone he worked with. And all because his own employees had stabbed him in the back.

It had come to Joey in bits and pieces, without any large moments of revelation, because it already fit _so well_ into everything Joey had already known.

Kaiba brought it upon _himself_. He was horrible and rude and rubbed _everybody_ the wrong way. It wasn’t really a mystery that his workers paid him no loyalty. Kaiba was _that_ frustrating as an employer, _that_ bad at reading people, and _that_ unprepared to deal with what Joey knew Kaiba had _already_ dealt with time and time again in his struggle to gain any footing against the terrifying edges of his world.

And Joey knew you never _could_ be prepared for it. But you could adapt and change and learn to roll with the punches. So long as you weren’t _Kaiba_ , who had always refused on principle. Kaiba brought it upon himself, but-

More than that, it fit so well, because Joey already knew he, himself, was a _failure_.

_You’re a failure, Joey. He runs into you two weeks later, forced to run his own errands. And when he gives you his business card – practically a cry for help by his standards – you sit on it for a month. He trusted you, and you let him down._

And Kaiba _had_ trusted him. On the very first day Joey came to Kaiba Corp, Kaiba had let Joey have security clearance to traipse through the whole building and straight up to his office. Kaiba had trusted Joey enough to punch out the elevator override password right in front of him. He had trusted Joey with the address to Mokuba’s school, and with _Mokuba_ himself. And, trusting Joey with his brother, so soon after he’d once again been brushed with the threat of losing him… It didn’t make any sense.

Unless Kaiba really _did_ know Joey much better than either of them wanted to admit.

 _And what did you do?! You threw it right back in his face! You’re a failure of a friend! And you’re not even his friend! But even a passing_ acquaintance _would have done better than you!_

_You’re a failure. You’re a failure._

The conversations bled together later, and he’d end up telling Yuugi and Anzu and everyone else, himself included, that he’d made the decision to return to Kaiba’s office based on the receptionists’ revelation of fact and circumstance.

But that wasn’t true. He hadn’t even known about the shooting then. Because he stacked the flyer, _Personal and Corporate Privacy Policies_ , back on the reception desk. And he didn’t ask about the recent event that had prompted its printing. And the receptionist quietly worked on finishing what she was doing on the computer.

And, when Joey thought about how, even surrounded by amazing competent people, Kaiba was trapped alone in his office - the split second of sympathy that coursed through him was really all he needed.

Joey didn’t need to know the reasons, when he so explicitly _understood_.

He covered his face with his hands, sucked a breath in through his teeth, and prepared himself for what he was about to do.

Joey grinned widely and peeked through his fingers at the receptionist.

“Uh, hey~” He giggled. “M- Man, this is embarrassing but I, uh, I think I left something up on the top floor.”

The receptionist blinked at the interruption.

“Yeah, I left my, uh… keys!” Joey announced.

 _Oh, god… He was so bad at this._ He felt his face blossom into bright red.

“I left my keys,” he repeated lamely. He leaned over the reception desk in a way he hoped wasn’t too obvious. “So if I could just- uh- get that card-necklace-thing back?”

He made a swipe for the keycard. The receptionist let him take it, but-

“I already deactivated it,” she said.

Joey looked at the useless card in his hand.

“Oh,” he said pitifully.

The receptionist smiled and gently reached out her hand.

“Here, let me reprogram it,” she said. “It’s yours until the end of the workday, after all... You’ve still got an hour. We don’t close the building until nine.”

It was a long, painful ride up the elevators back to Kaiba’s office. And there was far too much time to think things over on the way there.

There was nothing to say to Kaiba. Nothing to fix or to change. There was nothing to make up for, because Kaiba had never done anything to warrant any of this.

But Kaiba _needed_ somebody. He needed somebody in this damn building to _be_ there for him.

And that person _should_ be a friend – but Kaiba didn’t have any friends. Kaiba didn’t even know _how_ to have friends. Kaiba only knew how to have employees and unfortunate acquaintances. So Joey would just have to be those things instead.

And, it made no sense, but Joey _needed_ to see this through – _needed_ to see Kaiba to a place where he was as happy and smug and disgustingly in control, as every other heartless corporate asshole who didn’t deserve it. And the less sense it made, the more determined Joey got. And he stayed determined all the way up to the top floor.

Kaiba’s secretary seemed a little ticked-off when he walked back into the waiting room before Kaiba’s office.

“I’m back again,” Joey announced sheepishly.

“No,” she said. “I don’t know what you want with Kaiba-sama, but I think you should leave. I’m not calling to have you buzzed in.”

“Eh,” Joey wilted. “I just-”

“Kaiba-sama shouldn’t be bothered…” the secretary said, “…by a thug like you.”

Joey sighed. His face always had this effect on people. But he wasn’t in the mood for it. Something about the situation seemed too urgent.

“Listen,” Joey said. “I can explain later but-”

_What was it that Kaiba had said earlier, over the phone?_

“You’re Satou-chan, right?” He felt his suspicions confirmed, when her lips pursed. “Listen, Satou-chan. Maybe you should listen to your boss, okay? And… take into consideration that I’m in the computer system for a reason.” He reached for the lanyard around his neck. “And that I’ve got this keycard for a reason.”

The secretary gaped, but Joey walked past her.

He slid the keycard against the lock. The door to Kaiba’s office clicked open, once again.

And, there it was. Kaiba required no advance notification, didn’t even need to buzz him in. This keycard was proof enough. In his shitty, antagonistic, Kaiba-way, Seto _had_ been trying to let Joey _in_.

Joey walked inside and pulled the door shut behind him.

The office was the same as the first time Joey had entered. Pristine and spacious, with no trace of the bills he’d left scattered all over Kaiba’s carpeted floor.

Kaiba did not react the same as before though. He was still working on his computer, but he stopped and looked up immediately when Joey entered. His surprised eyes narrowed into a glare.

“What are you doing back up here, Wheeler?” Kaiba growled. “You’re _not_ getting your money back, after you threw it like an overgrown ape! You have five seconds to get out before I call security! Five-”

Joey ignored him. Because – it wasn’t that Kaiba’s bark was worse than his bite, just that- the moments Kaiba had spent so upset and afraid he was shaking were more important.

“Kaiba, are you okay?” Joey said.

It was only for a second, but Kaiba had looked up, confused, and waited a little too long to call out the next number.

“…Four.”

Kaiba’s right hand left his computer keyboard and hovered over a button on his phone.

Joey crossed the room quickly and stopped, right on the other side of Kaiba’s desk.

“Three… Two…”

“One!” Joey announced the last number, a little too quickly. He slammed his hand down on Kaiba’s desk. “You’re not, are you?” he prompted.

Kaiba pressed down on the button. There was a screech of static in the room, and on the other side of the intercom, a distant voice rang out.

“What can I do for you, Kaiba-sama? Are you in danger? Is everything okay, sir?”

“Tell ‘em,” Joey said. “Say it. If everything’s okay, say it, and I’ll leave you alone. And if you’re not okay…” Joey’s eyes flashed. “Answer me! I dare you!”

The challenge was, of course, what ignited Kaiba. His hands curled into fists, and the call cut out as the button for the intercom was released.

“Look, it’s not like there’s anything _wrong_ with me!” he snapped, almost defensively.

“Yea-” Joey agreed. “But that’s not really what I was asking, was it. It’s not the same as being okay.”

There was a moment, when they looked at each other, that Joey was convinced they saw right through to each other’s soul.

Kaiba’s eyes clouded over.

“You’re not going to leave me alone. Are you, Wheeler?” he said, resigned.

Joey laughed.

“Listen, Kaiba. If you want someone to stick around, maybe don’t try so hard to convince them that you don’t.”

Kaiba grit his teeth, and violently slapped his laptop closed.

“ _You_ …” he hissed. “ _You_ are the _dumbest_ , most petulant… the most _annoying_ excuse for a human being that I’ve ever had the displeasure of being forced to associate with.”

It was weak. And they both knew it.

“Yeah? Nice try,” Joey snickered. “If we’re going by insulting things you’ve said to me, that doesn’t even break the top five-”

“I’m going home.” Kaiba cut him off. He slid his laptop into his briefcase, and started piling files together. “I’m running on ninty-five minutes of sleep. And I don’t have the patience to deal with any more of your rampant _incompetence_.”

He stood up abruptly, and his plush office chair scooted back against the carpet.

Joey snorted. “Well, geez, Kaiba! If that’s all you’re sleeping, it’s not really much of a mystery-”

“Shut it!” Kaiba commanded. And Joey held up his hands in faux-surrender, and turned his face down to hide his smirk.

Kaiba stomped the rest of the way to the door.

“And you better not be late in the future! You can work out your shift schedule with Satou!”

It was exactly what Joey expected, but it was a little disappointing getting it so easily.

“Hey? Who said I needed your stupid job?!” Joey complained. “Maybe I’m not in the mood after all that whining from you.”

Kaiba was already at the door, but he turned back to give Joey a withering look. “Please, Wheeler. _Of course_ you need the job. You’re a pathetic louse living on the scummy dregs of society. You couldn’t _dream_ of finding another job with this kind of pay and prestige. And you know it. Besides-

“This kind of thing doesn’t work if we both play coy,” he said, completely straight-faced, before he walked through the threshold, and slammed the door shut behind him.

Joey snorted and made his way to the door. It was unlocked. He glanced out the door, at Satou-chan who, at this point, looked much less angry than baffled.

“So, uh…” he smiled at her. “What kind of hours are we talking?”

 


	5. Coffee, Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Big thank you to [Kiwianna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwianna) and [Inktrap](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inktrap) for consulting with me about New Zealand and characterisation respectively <3  
> Hopefully, I was able to put your input to good use.  
>   
> 

“So, uh, I’m working at a new place now.”

Joey stirred beef and leek together over his rice. He cracked an egg on top and broke the yoke with his chopstick, before shovelling it in his mouth.

His father winced. “I don’t know how you can eat it like that, Joey…”

It was an old argument.

“Hey, it’s in my blood!” Joey protested. “Raw egg is a classic of traditional Japanese cuisine! Just ‘cause you can’t stomach it doesn’t mean it’s not delicious!” Joey had already fried his father’s egg for him anyhow, and- “And anyhow, I was trying to tell you about my new job!”

“Sorry, Joey,” his father laughed, looking pointedly away from Joey’s bowl. “Where are you working now?”

Joey grumbled. That was not one of the details about his new job that he wanted to share.

“The commute’s a bit longer than it was for my last job… And the hours are a little longer too. I had to argue with them to get Sunday and Monday off.”

This, uncoincidentally, fell in line with Yuugi and Honda’s respective days off.

“Sounds tough~” his father whistled. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Yeah?” Joey grumbled. “Well, we can’t all bum around in Pachinko parlours all day.”

His father winced again, but he recovered so quickly, Joey didn’t have time to start feeling bad about it.

“Rough words, son. But you’ll change your mind when I hit the jackpot. I’ve had pretty good days lately – so it’s only a matter of time.”

Joey actually felt a little better, when his father smiled.

Joey slurped up his egg and gnawed persistently on a tough piece of beef.

“I just wanted to make sure you’d be okay,” Joey admitted. “You know, since I might not be around as much.”

“Aren’t I always okay, Joey?” his father asked, flashing Joey a thumbs-up.

Joey lifted a sticky glob of rice up on his chopsticks and chewed it, unimpressed.

“You have my phone number anyhow, right?” Joey asked. “You keep the slip of paper with my number in your pocket? You’ll call me if anything goes wrong?”

“Of course, I’ve got my precious son’s number memorised,” Jounouchi senior said, tapping his forehead importantly. “But you just worry about yourself, Joey. Your father can handle himself.”

Joey averted his eyes. He tapped his plastic chopsticks on the side of his plastic bowl. His father was picking slowly through his food. If his father had a gut, it certainly wasn’t from his appetite for food, Joey decided.

Joey struggled to find something else to say – to find some intersection of his and his father’s life that he wasn’t intentionally avoiding. “I heard from Serenity last night,” he remembered. “She’s all settled in at college now. She told me to say ‘hi’ to you for her.”

They’d talked for a good twenty minutes. Otogi’s name hadn’t come up the whole time.

“That’s good,” his father smiled. “Do you know which classes she’s taking?”

“Uh…” Joey stumbled. “Drawing- _something-something_ , painting- _something-else_ , more art history, and two science-y things. She’s still thinking about becoming some sort of medical technician, if art doesn’t end up working out.”

His father hummed happily. “I always knew she would turn out okay,” he smiled. “She always was a smart kid… unlike your old man.”

“Don’t start,” Joey warned, pointing his chopsticks at his dad critically. “You’re plenty smart enough to know what’s good for you.”

 _And she was_ this close _to not turning out okay. If Mom and Yuugi and I hadn’t pulled through for her with the money for the operation._

His father laughed, and Joey scoffed. He used his index finger to flick a stray grain of rice at his father. It only made it halfway across the table. His father stuck out his tongue. Joey stuck out his tongue in retaliation, before shovelling the last of his food into his mouth.

His wallet was lying on the table, flipped open to Serenity’s picture. Joey considered it for a moment, and glanced quickly over to his dad, before standing to go put his dishes in the sink.

He filled the empty bowl with water and left it there. His father would clean it, probably. He’d cleaned the apartment earlier, actually. The windows were open and, aired out, the place smelled less like mildew.

“I’m heading out,” he called over his shoulder, heading over to the door.

“Joey!” his father called back.

The door was swung halfway open, but his shoes were still lying untouched by the entrance. “What?” Joey called back.

Jounouchi senior was quiet for a moment, and then…

“Don’t forget your wallet, Joey.”

Joey stepped back inside the room, and peaked back around edge of the partition, separating the kitchen and the main room of the apartment.

His father was sitting at the same place at the table, gesturing across at the wallet Joey had left lying on the other side.

“You have to be careful not to leave it lying around,” he said, smiling in a rare moment of self-awareness and restraint.

==

“You’re back!” the receptionist greeted.

“I’m back,” Joey agreed, slouching over the front desk, and sighing dramatically. “Who could have guessed?”

“Well, you know what they say,” the receptionist said. “You never see a strange face less than twice.”

Joey scuffed his sneakers on the tile floor. “You sure you didn’t just make that up right now?” he said. “And are you saying my face is strange?!”

The receptionist laughed. She stood up from her seat and bowed to him. “Osamura Keiko,” she introduced. “And this is Hachimura Mami,” she gestured the receptionist assisting on the other side of the desk. “Looks like we’ll be working together.”

“Ah, great,” Joey agreed, bowing in turn. “Joey Wheeler. But I guess you already knew that… Be kind. Okay, sempai?” he said, batting his eyes teasingly.

Keiko reached across the desk to slap him on the arm, but she smiled.

“You’ve already been assigned a personal ID and keycard,” she said, with the sudden edge of business in her voice. “I think we have it printed out in the back. Let me go see. Ah, Mami,” she waved at the other receptionist, who had just finished assisting another guest. “Come over here and keep Joey-san company, while I go fetch his keycard.”

Mami hesitated, but she walked over to stand in front of Joey, as Keiko disappeared off into the back.

Mami glanced to the side, making eye contact with the security guards, as Keiko had done the day before.

“Another tough cookie, huh?” Joey whistled.

“Eh?” Mami flustered.

“Eh, heh~” Joey laughed, suddenly nervous. “Nothing, nothing,” he said, waving her off.

They just stood there for a moment, on opposite sides of the reception desk. Mami seemed much less talkative than her co-workers.

“…So, Mami, right?” he asked. “Mami- _san_ ,” he tried, adding the honorific in as a last minute bid. “You been working here long?”

“Ah, I, uh-” Mami faltered.

Joey grinned, in an attempt to calm her. “Any tips for a newbie just starting out?” he asked, pointing smartly to his nose.

Mami raised one eyebrow unsurely. “It’s… really very much like working any other office job,” she offered. “I was working a couple buildings over, at Mel-co, before this. But Kaiba Corp has better benefits for long-term employees.”

Joey had never worked in an office before, or even considered the existence of long-term employee benefits.

On the other hand, it was unlikely Mami or anybody knew better than him what working with Kaiba was going to be like.

“Is there anything specific you’re concerned about?” Mami asked. “Anything more specific you want to know about working here?”

“Uhhh?” Joey floundered.

He went silent.

It took him a bit to think of something. Mami’s attention had wandered by the time he managed to pin something down.

“Actually, uh, there is something I forgot to ask Ms Secretary yesterday,” he admitted. When Mami turned back to him, he continued. “Are, uh, drinking parties a big thing here?” he asked nervously.

The side of Mami’s mouth twitched.

“Y-you’re just starting work today, and you’re already asking about partying?” she asked incredulously.

_Shit. That hadn’t come out right._

“N-no!” Joey backpedalled. “It’s just-” His face reddened. He hated having to come up with these explanations for himself. “I was asking about employee bonding- And also, I, uh, have somebody I’m taking care of, so I can’t stay late and-”

Mami seemed to have relaxed.

Joey sighed.

“Ah, sorry, I was mostly able to skip out on mandatory drinking at my last job. So I didn’t even think about it when I signed up for this job,” he finished, rubbing the back of his head self-consciously.

Mami ran her fingernails along the edge of the counter, behind the front of the reception desk.

“I understand,” she said, nodding solemnly. She adjusted her pencil skirt and bowed slightly to Joey in apology before continuing.

“The Kaiba Corporation policy specifies that you’re to be productive and busy for the duration of your working hours and, beyond that, any socialisation – pertaining to either your personal or business life – is to occur on your own time of your own volition.”

_I don’t pay you buffoons to get along. I pay you to work._

Joey snorted. He could imagine Kaiba saying something like that. It worked out well for Joey, but tough break for the rest of the Kaiba Corp employees. What kind of inharmonious work environment was Kaiba trying to promote?

Mami continued. “I think some of the department supervisors have set up unofficial after-work parties, but- ah- you’re working under Satou-chan on the top floor, correct?”

“Yup,” Joey nodded unenthusiastically.

Mami nodded.

“I wouldn’t worry about it then,” she assured. “There aren’t really enough people working where you are to even make much of a party.”

Joey sighed softly.

It was a relief that he wouldn’t have to attend after-hours parties where he’d be expected to drink. But he couldn’t decide if it would have been a bigger relief to not be so alone on the top floor – without anyone with which to commiserate. From what he’d gleaned from the secretary, Satou-chan, she was ill-humoured and not very taken with jokes directed at Kaiba’s patent unreasonableness.

Keiko re-emerged from the back room, clutching a lanyard in her fist. She shooed Mami out of the way, thanking her for watching after ‘Joey-kun’ in the meantime – and then handed the keycard ID over to Joey with both hands.

Joey nodded his head and accepted it. The lanyard was a dark blue, and attached to the keycard with a metal fixture. They had, thankfully, used his English surname. _Wheeler Joey_ was printed in katakana on the top of the card, over a photo of his face that looked a whole lot more recent than anything Kaiba should reasonably have on file. And under the picture was a caption.

Joey snorted.

“‘Useless Nobody’?” he asked.

Keiko blinked. “ _Excuse_ you?!” she huffed.

“Yeah,” Joey said, turning the card around so she could see and pointing at the offending line. “Right here – ‘Useless Nobody’.”

Keiko squinted at the card, and then immediately became apologetic. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry about this,” she profused. “I don’t know what- Let me see what I can do!”

She grabbed the lanyard and yanked the card out of his hand, bowing shortly before sitting down at her desk.

 _Useless nobody_.

Joey remembered on a level more visceral than vivid: visiting the electronics shop with Yuugi and the others. The caption that had pulled up on the computer screen along with Joey’s profile. The pure anger that had built up in his gut when he realised Kaiba had not only barred him entry to his Battle City Tournament, but gone out of his way to insult Joey in the process. The way he’d elbowed Honda in the face trying to make a grab for the Duel Disk.

And in the end how he’d gotten it, a certified Kaiba Corp Duel Disk System, version 2.0.1.

He’d treasured it. He really had. Really _had_ to. In high school, it had been worth more than anything else he owned – probably worth more than everything else he owned _combined_. But even after it had outlasted its usefulness to him, even after the reality of professional duelling had chewed Joey up and spit him out, he’d treasured it out of a misplaced sense of sentimentality. He’d kept it in its old, crusty cardboard box, wrapped in his dresser drawer, until his father had had the bright idea to pawn it off for spare change when Joey was at work. And Joey had been upset, but he couldn’t even be _too_ upset – because what else was it good for?

Like a record of all the things he had felt throughout the years – Kaiba’s insult now instilled none of the anger it had originally, but only wistful nostalgia. How useless had it all been? Brand new electronics that aged and withered, pawned for pennies on the original value, and now replaced with a cheap plastic keycard that would take him all the way to the throne room of the Kaiba Corp fortress.

Keiko was studying the computer screen.

“I’ve checked the system, and it seems like there was a breach into the database this morning. At… 03:22… Somebody edited this onto your profile.” Keiko bowed her head shortly. “My deepest apologies, on behalf of Kaiba Corp,” she said. “I’m working to override the change. I’m sure we can get it sorted and print you out a new ID.”

And Kaiba, who apparently had nothing better to do at three in the morning than hack into his company’s own database and write childish jibes about Joey that were five years out of style.

Joey snickered.

“No, no leave it!” he urged, waving Keiko off. “It’s perfect… Actually lemme take a picture!”

He grabbed the ID back from behind the reception desk and adjusted it on the counter. He fiddled with his phone, trying to figure out how to pull up the camera feature. He didn’t have a data plan that included picture messages, but Anzu _had_ to see this.

He snapped a shot and began to caption it.

_Guess who hasn’t grown up at all since BC._

He snickered to himself, but felt oddly unimpressed with the end result. He deleted most of the comment, and rewrote.

_Guess who’s a certified KC employee as of this morning._

It wasn’t as funny, but it didn’t have to be. It would get the message across. He’d told Anzu he’d let her know how the job hunt went. Let Anzu draw her own conclusions about the rest.

Keiko was looking at him sceptically.

“Are… you sure?” she asked. “Walking around with that ID is kind of…”

 _Insulting_ , Joey thought.

“…unprofessional,” Keiko finished.

Joey grinned.

“Nah. Your boss is in on it,” he assured, waving her off and wrapping the lanyard around his neck. “Kaiba’ll get a kick out of it, you’ll see.”

“Oh?” she asked.

Joey stood up straight. “And, anyhow, this ‘useless nobody’ has a date up at the top office!” He winked. “Can’t be late my first day of work!”

==

_Joey could hear the hustle and bustle in the background of the call. Car horns honking, the rolling wheels of luggage carts, English words being shouted over the din._

_“I can’t believe it’s over~” Mai sighed, wistfully, over the noise. “Just when you start to get used to a place, you have to pack up and leave.”_

_Joey couldn’t believe it had taken Mai over a month to finish up in New Zealand. The tournament had ended a couple of weeks ago now._

_“How much time do you need to get used to a place anyhow?” Joey asked._

_Mai huffed. “How long did you need to get used to Japan?” she asked._

_“…Mai, I live here.”_

_“So twenty-two years,” Mai said triumphantly. “And you’re still not quite there, yet.”_

_Joey snorted. “Are you used to Japan then?” he teased. “You better come back, and get more accustomed to it.”_

_“Bit of a lost cause at this point, hon~” Mai laughed. “I’d have to be there forever to get used to it.”_

Then stay forever _, Joey thought._

_He knew somehow, instinctively, this wasn’t a fair thing to say._

_Joey rearranged the phone, switched it to the opposite side of his face._

_“Did you… see as much of Egypt as you wanted?” Mai asked, tentatively._

_Joey hesitated a moment. This was a touchy subject for Mai._

_“Everything I really wanted to see,” Joey said._

_Malik had raved about the Red Sea, Upper Egypt, Alexandria, travelling Africa’s northern coast to Morocco, crossing into Spain. Joey wasn’t very close to Malik, but he understood the way wanderlust might be a side effect of extended periods of captivity. If you were Malik, it took way more than twenty years to get used to the country you were born in. The ‘country’ Malik was born in no longer existed. Although Isis had done her best to rebuilt it, from old pieces of fallen duty._

_Egypt was fun. But he hadn’t gone to Egypt to see Egypt._

_“I went for Yuugi,” he told Mai. “And Atem.”_

_There was a long pause at the other end of the line._

_Mai sighed. “I wish I could have been there.”_

_“I know you do, Mai,” Joey said. “You-”_

_Mai cut him off._

_“I learned a lot from him… And he from me, I think,” she said._

We all learned a lot from each other, _Joey thought._

_“Not as much as I learned from you, though,” Mai added._

_Joey imagined the way she’d curl her blonde hair around her finger, and smile confidently at him._

_“Now you’ve gone and made me sad!” Mai complained. “I was trying to tell you about my time in New Zealand.”_

_Joey snorted. “Well…” He shrugged, although Mai couldn’t see. “Go ahead and tell me about Australia, then.”_

_Mai groaned. “I_ swear _Joey. I_ just _said it.” She couldn’t stifle a laugh, though._

 _“Well,” Mai acquiesced. “It’s already autumn here in the southern hemisphere – not like Japan can be, but it rains and, especially with the wind chill factor while I’m biking~ But we went up to the north end of the island. One of the guys at the tournament- One of the_ competitors _really wanted to go see the dolphins. We went through all this trouble tracking down a boat for them – I mean, this tourist stuff’s everywhere – but choosing the right boat, and catching it before the last tour of the day, ended up being this whole deal,” Mai laughed. “And there weren’t even any dolphins in the end! And this guy ended up getting seasick to boot!”_

There’s dolphins at the aquarium, _Joey thought_. Or Ryouta! Ryouta’d take us out on his boat. I’m sure he knows where to find dolphins.

_“It was worth it, though,” Mai concluded wistfully. “Seeing the sunset over the water. Watching it reminded me of you somehow.”_

_Joey shuffled uncomfortably. He pulled unconsciously at his collar, and pressed the phone further up against his ear. “You said Vivian wasn’t there with you this time?”_

_“No,” Mai confirmed. “She’s out this season, after she got cast for some daytime drama. I think she might go into acting fulltime.” Mai groaned. “Bitch._ _She’s gonna spend the rest of her life posing for advertisements in that cheongsam of hers, and leave me high and dry!”_

 _“Awww, you miss her~” he teased. “You_ miiiissss _her.”_

_He chortled, but the insincerity of the gesture seemed to settle unevenly between them._

_Mai clicked her tongue. “Oh, shut it~” she scolded. “Anyhow,” she continued, “I wanted to see the volcanoes too, and the hot springs, but that’s all further south on the island apparently – And in the city – Eden Park was an amazing venue, but we were all so sick of it by the time we were done… I thought about trying to get tickets for something official, but in the end it was nicer just to forget it and catch a couple amateur rugby matches in the park – it’s not the peak of the season yet anyhow.”_

_Joey nodded to himself._

_“And I made a last minute trip into one of the vineyards,” she concluded. “I thought the flavour was pretty good, but mostly it makes a good souvenir for when I see my parents. They’re really…” Mai laughed again, but Joey could hear the edge of self-consciousness there. “If it’s not sake or pálinka, the wine better be French or they’ll refuse to drink it. I thought it’d be funny to watch them pretend to like it~”_

_“Well, uh~” Joey faltered. “You’d know your parents better than I would…”_

_He couldn’t scold her for not respecting her seniors. He might feel the impulse, but what floodgates would it open about his own parents?_

_Not to mention, she hadn’t introduced him to her family yet._

_Mai had moved on, though. “Hmm, at the winery, they hired a couple of aboriginal workers. – you know, native islanders. I got to talk to some of them. They had all these other recommendations for where I should go for boating and barbeques. But… ugh-” Mai groaned. “I always feel so uncomfortable with cultural tourism. I know it's a business, and business is business. A source of income is better than no income… But it feels strange looking into a sanitised version of people’s lives, like it’s something you can just pass by and gawk at and move on from…” Mai sighed. “But maybe all tourism is like that.”_

_Joey didn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully Mai didn’t seem to expect his input._

_“Still…” she said wistfully. “It was interesting. Some of them have tattoos all over their face. You should have seen them.”_

_Joey coughed nervously._

_“Well, everybody in Western countries has tattoos and stuff,” Joey said knowledgably. “It’s not like here where a piece of painted skin’s gonna make people think you’re in the mob.”_

_“It’s not like that,” Mai replied. “I mean- It_ is _. But- You have to see it to understand,” Mai said. “…This whole place. You have to_ see _it.”_

_There was the slightest hint of a plea in her voice._

_“Come see it with me,” Mai prodded._

_Neither of them knew if that was a fair thing to say._

_Or maybe fairness had nothing to do with it._

==

“So, uh, what am I supposed to be doing now?”

Satou-chan was rearranging the furniture in the reception area just before Kaiba’s office. Joey had been sent down a few floors to snatch a desk from one of the empty offices and drag it back to the top floor. The thing was heavy and cumbersome, and Joey had had to push it scraping again the floor to move it, and had to sit on top of it to fit it inside the elevator.

Satou-chan looked at him critically. “You tell me. What _are_ you supposed to be doing here?”

Satou-chan had declined help moving the desk around the office. She apparently wanted full control in the positioning of Joey’s desk.

Joey scratched the back of his head. “Kaiba said he needed a gofer,” he replied defensively.

Satou-chan seemed about as convinced of this as he was.

The phone on Satou-chan’s desk was already ringing. Ringing and piling up messages. She went to answer it.

_Kaiba-sama’s office… Who’s speaking? …Can I take a message?_

Joey took the opportunity to push his desk into place, perpendicular to Satou-chan’s.

Satou-chan had apparently noticed neither of them had any idea what Joey was supposed to be doing. Once she was done taking her phone call, she took it upon herself find out.

Kaiba was already in his office. According to the schedule Satou-chan had laying out over her desk, he didn’t have any appointments until eleven, but she called him on the phone in lieu of knocking on the door to ask him directly.

Joey was standing several metres away, but he could still hear Kaiba’s voice on the other end of the line.

 _We don’t have a_ single _floor that isn’t understaffed. Have him carry boxes. Have him mop floors. Have him shred documents. Send him to Aoki-san. Sent him to Watanabe. Send him_ anywhere _that needs some_ dumb _muscle. I don’t_ care _. Just make sure he’s back in time to pick up my little brother._

Satou-chan didn’t flinch when Kaiba slammed the phone down on the receiver, and the echoing clatter reverberated loudly against her fist.

The phone started ringing again, just as soon as Kaiba hung up. Satou-chan sighed and spoke over it.

“Well, first go pick up a beeper from internal tech on floor thirty-three,” she instructed. “I’ll contact a couple of the department heads to locate the blank spots in their shift schedules.”

And that was how Joey found himself being bounced between departments like a ping-pong ball. Satou-chan would relay the floor number and the name of the department head he should talk to via the beeper, and Joey would run between floors like they were catching fire. One day he found himself wiring up new phones in the Kaiba Corp call centre. Another day found him containing a gas leak on the fiftieth floor. Another found him being hooked into a faulty VR pod. He spent fifty minutes stuck in a partially loaded, glitchy rendition of an oil rig before the techs pulled him out again. He’d hauled boxes of computer chips from the basement to the sixty-second floor. And he spent several days in the Kaiba Corp internal mailing office, sorting packages and memos that were being sent between departments and other Kaiba Corp offices and theme parks.

It reminded Joey of temp work, and every job he had ever done wrapped up into one inconvenient package. A new set of responsibilities with each passing day. A string of tetchy bosses, each scolding him for his informality and acting like he should know things they never explained. Being brought into projects that were on the edge of falling apart, and cleaning up messes nobody else wanted to touch – chemical spills and bathroom emergencies.

More than one person asked him who he was, and why his nametag called him ‘useless’. Joey always laughed, but found no way to explain the joke.

_Maybe it wasn’t a joke. Maybe it was to keep people’s expectations low._

It was work that necessitated flexibility, and a deliberate amount of disregard – a refusal to get too swept up into any one of the various tasks set upon him.

What the job did not require – was dealing with much of Kaiba, apparently.

His desk in the top office seemed little more than a base of operations most days. It was the first place he reported to in the morning, and the place he returned to before leaving to pick up Mokuba. He came there to complain at Satou-chan, and throw his beeper on his otherwise empty desk.

And Kaiba was usually on the other side of his office doors. He got to work before Joey, and left after him. Only if Joey was particularly lucky (or unlucky), they’d run into each other as Kaiba left for meetings. Kaiba was always lost in concentration, but even when he was talking on his cell, he’d grow quiet as they passed. Their eyes would meet, and sometimes they’d nod, but they kept moving.

It bred a level of distrust. More than once, Joey would find himself turning back to watch Kaiba leave, and he wondered when the cracks would start to rend.

_There was nothing coincidental about this._

In defiance of Joey’s expectations, Satou-chan kept him around in Kaiba’s reception area one day. Between phone calls, she had him dig through the filing cabinets for her. She had him organise papers by date. And she sent him down to deliver folders to the directors on the floors right below them.

Halfway through the day, Satou-chan asked him how he was fitting in at Kaiba Corp.

 _With who? The janitors, or the businessmen?_ Joey smiled and said he was fitting in well-enough.

He was thinking about Mokuba, who was ahead of the game in that he actually _knew_ who Joey _was_.

But he was also thinking about the subtle threat inherent in his proximity to Kaiba’s office. A proximity that was shortening, as Satou-chan let him linger longer in Kaiba’s reception area.

Calm was one of those things Joey knew, from experience, was bound not to last.

==

“Oh, it’s you again,” Mokuba frowned, distastefully, as he walked up to where Joey was waiting outside the school gates.

“It’s me again.” Joey pointed to his mouth with both hands and smiled. “Why? Miss me?”

Mokuba huffed and walked ahead. They’d reached the point where Mokuba felt comfortable leading them to the car. Joey turned to follow him.

“Hn, when you didn’t show up Monday afternoon, I thought nii-sama must have fired you.”

“In my dreams,” Joey laughed. “Nah, that’s just my day off…” He tilted his head. “Your brother didn’t tell you?”

Mokuba scowled and answered this question by not answering it.

Tsukuda was driving again, and Mokuba directed them to some university library, where he had a private study room reserved. There was a whiteboard on the wall, filled in with unsolved math problems, and an oval table surrounded by leather spinning chairs.

“Whoa, fancy!” Joey said, eyes wide as Mokuba laid out the contents of his briefcase. “How’d you pull this one off.”

Mokuba gave him a look. “They’re public rooms, Joey. You just need to have a library account open, and call in advance to reserve a time-slot.”

This sounded made-up, because how in the world did Mokuba get an account at the university library anyhow, but Joey didn’t have much time to contemplate. Mokuba was pulling a laptop out of his bag and jotting down something on a notepad. He ripped the paper away and handed it to Joey.

“Get these for me,” he said. “They should be in the library’s periodical section.”

Listed were the daily newspapers, and a number of magazines in both English and Japanese, including Nikkei Buisiness and Electronics, Entertainment Weekly, and Famitsu.

Joey was uncomfortable with the prospect of climbing over a whole bunch of university students to get at the periodicals. They, unlike Mokuba, were _supposed_ to be here researching.

“What do you need all these for?” he whined.

Mokuba rolled his eyes. “For school.”

It was obvious this wasn’t exactly for school. One of the magazines prominently displayed Kaiba holding a hand of Duel Monsters cards and the controller for a game console. He was smiling at the camera, not in a friendly way, but he didn’t look as angry or crazed, or even as intimidating as Joey might have thought.

Or maybe Kaiba was just as intimidating as Joey thought. It had been so long since he’d paid any attention, but Kaiba really was everywhere – in magazines and on television and in news reports. He still had a public persona. Still had an international corporation and a line of theme parks and fans. And, no thanks to Mokuba, reminders of Kaiba’s success seemed to be everywhere now.

Joey’s eyes panned involuntarily away. He looked sideways, at a girl browsing a botany magazine. She turned to him, before Joey could look away.

Joey blushed. His brow furrowed, and he grinned widely, as he drew the magazine off the shelf.

 _Oh, god, she might actually think he cared about anything Kaiba did._ He broke eye contact with the girl, and hurried to gather the rest of what Mokuba requested. Shoving the magazine with Kaiba on it under his arm.

He hurried to gather the rest of the magazines, and retreat back to the study room.

Mokuba glanced up at Joey briefly as he re-entered the room. He had his math and history textbooks open next to him on the table, but he was ignoring them in favour of working on his laptop.

Joey slammed the pile of magazines and papers down on the table. They fell out of place, and spread across the table like a toppled deck of cards.

Mokuba turned up and glared at him, but he stood and spread the magazines neatly out over the table himself. He flipped through the contents, and found the relevant articles – pinned them open and spread them out in the pattern of a rough brainstorm.

“I sent Tsukuda out to buy another couple publications from the newsstand,” he told Joey. “You can relax for now.”

Joey tried. He leaned back in his chair, across from Mokuba, and propped his socks up on the desk. Mokuba was looking diligently between his materials, typing in to his laptop, and scribbling answers into a worksheet on top of his history textbook, seemingly all at once. Joey felt like nodding off to sleep, but flashes of the news articles kept brushing past his mind. He eventually gave up and snatched one of the papers up off the desk, ignoring the sudden twitch in Mokuba’s brow.

_KAIBA SETO ADDRESSES FALLING STOCK PRICES, PLANS FOR CORPORTATION’S FUTURE_

Joey huffed and skimmed the article. There was a photo of Kaiba smiling a strangely confident half-smile in one photo, then shaking hands with some business partner much older than him, then with his mouth open as he spoke unshakably into a mic.

 _“The passion and energy we put into games, into battle, into entertainment… All of us at Kaiba Corp believe there is a meaning and purpose to that beyond what can be finitely measured._ No _, it’s not just a_ game _,”_ Kaiba had said.

_While delivered with the utmost confidence and sincerity, Kaiba Seto’s words have failed to convince shareholders to maintain faith in the company’s now and future prospects, after the recent reports of gun violence within the company itself, creative stagnation, decreased employment numbers, and the recent losses reported by the Osaka branch…_

Joey snorted. He turned the paper towards Mokuba and tapped at a graph of the falling Kaiba Corp stock prices. “Looks like your brother’s fucking up,” he snorted. “Pissed he running your company into the ground?” he teased.

Mokuba was scribbling over the face of a magazine article in pen, apparently unbothered by the fact that it was the library’s property.

“Nii-sama knows what he’s doing,” Mokuba said blandly. “It’s better if stock prices are low right now. More than a few board members had to be replaced after what happened in February. He’s working to delay the vote, while also using personal funds to buy back shares of the company. It’ll give him more say in what happens in management.”

Joey snorted, already bored. “He’s the CEO. Doesn’t he already get top say in everything?”

Mokuba gave him a withering look.

“Anyhow,” Mokuba continued, brushing Joey off. “Nii-sama has a couple projects up his sleeve that are sure to sell well once they hit the market. He’ll be able to sell the shares back at a profit once he releases some upcoming properties.”

Mokuba slashed his pen across the magazine, and pressed it down flat on the table.

“Huh?” Joey said blankly. He supposed Kaiba had sprung back from worse.

“Insider info.” Mokuba grinned smugly. He tapped his forehead with his index finger. “I wouldn’t expect a buffoon like you to understand.”

“Hey!” Joey bristled. “I didn’t come here to be insulted!”

Mokuba rapped his pen against the side of the desk.

“Then don’t criticise my brother when _you’re_ the one that doesn’t get it.” Mokuba glared at him poisonously. “Nii-sama has his weakpoints, even when it comes to business – but don’t _you_ pretend you understand them. Nii-sama’s an absolute genius – you should be able to respect that if nothing else.”

“And you?” Joey prodded. “’Cause you’re such a respectful guy.”

“Hn.” Mokuba smiled bitterly. He picked up a pencil case and upturned it on the desk. He picked through to find a sharpie marker.

“The only thing that’s a match for Seto’s genius is another genius.”

Joey crossed his arms behind his head and thought of Yuugi. “Yeah? And who are you talkin’ about there?”

“I think you’re smart enough to figure that one out yourself,” Mokuba said. He uncapped the marker in his hand, and drew it in a straight diagonal line across the face of the newspaper’s business page.

==

“Can you make coffee?” Satou-chan asked. “Kaiba-sama will be wanting some.”

Joey’s brow furrowed. The corner of his mouth turned up into a sneer. “What – Kaiba too good to get his own drinks?”

This was a very stupid thing to say, seeing as Kaiba was the CEO of his company. The way Satou-chan slammed a file folder on her desk and rolled her eyes to look up at him, disgusted, communicated this well.

“Oh, fine,” Joey agreed, remembering why he was there. He leaned forward in his seat and hauled himself to his feet. “What do I do?”

“The coffee machine is the lounge outside,” Satou-chan said. “Behind the bar. The milk and creamer and coffee grounds are in the fridge.”

“Sure,” Joey agreed. “How does he take his coffee?”

Satou-chan said nothing at first. Joey watched her purse her lip, as she flipped through an appointment book.

“I can’t say,” she admitted. “Although I’ve asked him several times.”

“Drip it is, then,” Joey agreed.

Satou-chan nodded, only half paying attention.

Joey sighed and took a step, towards the lounge. Then he turned back.

“How do you want your coffee? …Satou-chan?” he asked.

It seemed to take a moment for this to register. Satou-chan paused in her work, seemed to ponder this a moment. She still looked confused when she finally looked up at him.

Sensing her hesitation, Joey felt like an idiot. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Ah- You don’t-” she floundered. “Thank you,” she finally said. “Not too strong. With a little cream, I guess.”

“No problem,” Joey said, turning away quickly.

It was a problem, though.

The lounge was so large and empty, it felt daunting. The sky was overcast, and it seemed to make the whole room dim and pale, behind windows and the bright metal of the Blue Eyes statue. In the fountain, the Water Omotics statue held her empty vase above her head. The dry, grey face of the carved stone made her skin look clammy and sickly, even under the generous curve of her breasts.

The more he thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed absolutely un-Kaiba-like. The whole lounge did, sans the Blue Eyes statue. Joey tried to imagine Kaiba commissioning the building of the lounge, willingly allowing a bar and restaurant and seating for half a hundred people right outside his front office. Maybe it was a relic of the pre-Kaiba Kaiba Corp. Or the pre- _Seto_ Kaiba Corp, he should say. Or maybe it was Mokuba’s idea. A fountain in the shape of a Duel Monsters’ card _had_ to post-date Kaiba taking control of the company.

Behind the bar, there was a light smattering of dust covering the shelves and counter, save for the square metre surrounding the mini-fridge and coffee machine.

Joey brushed his fingers over the counter. He examined the empty shelves, the light bulbs missing from the light sockets, a dried up sink, and unconnected tap. To one side of the bar, a collection of cardboard boxes was stacked to waist height. When he looked inside, he found a packed collection of glass tumblers.

He thought about Mai sitting at an airport bar, ice clinking in her glass. He’d had times where he sat awkwardly next to her at the counter, and she’d snuck him fruity desert drinks and smiles. But he imagined being the one behind the counter, behind the bar of a fully functioning Kaiba Corp sky lounge.

The security posts would be filled. The restaurant would be bustling. Couples would be sitting at the tables circling the elevator. Children would be pointing out the windows at the Blue Eyes statue and the city below. And the shimmering eyes and wet smile of Water Omotics card would look down at them all.

And Joey would be dressed crisply in uniform – shaking drinks, turning glasses, flirting and listening to the woes of the high-class clients. Business suits, young mistresses with styled hair and designer bags, celebrity personalities and professional duellists… Mai… not Kaiba- Kaiba’d be holed up in his office ‘till the end of time, but-

And then Joey abruptly imagined shaking a drink that turned into cheap sour sake. And his dad was lolled over the bar in shabby clothes that Joey needed to wash. And the whole thing suddenly lost its appeal.

 _Yeah, fuck that_ , Joey thought. “And fuck you-” Joey snarled at the coffee machine.

The coffee machine hissed back at him. Steam had ejected from some random vent. Kaiba, could not, of course, have a normal cooperative coffee machine. It was some kind of monster with a million dials and labels in roman letters that Joey couldn’t understand, and it seemed to spew boiling water at Joey every chance that it got. By the time Joey managed to figure out how to work the normal filter and create something that tasted decent, he’d used up about five times more coffee grounds than he needed to, burned himself twice, and had to run downstairs for paper towels because some murky brown pseudo-coffee liquid had spilled all over the counter.

And the more the coffee machine seemed set on besting him, the more Joey felt determined to make it work.

The coffee turned out a little stronger than he would have liked in the end, but he reached for the stack of disposable paper coffee cups and lids laid out next to the coffee machine – Kaiba and Satou-chan apparently did not have favourite mugs – and Joey doled out two servings of coffee. He found the creamer in the fridge and sloshed a little in Satou-chan’s cup – he left Kaiba’s black – and snapped lids on both of them.

Satou-chan was on the phone when he got back, and he checked briefly to make sure he was giving her the right cup, before tapping it gently down on her desk.

Satou-chan covered the phone receiver with her hand and a mouthed a quick thanks.

Joey ducked his head sheepishly, and then turned to the door to Kaiba’s office. He swiped his keycard, and pressed the door open, only slightly ajar, with his shoulder.

Then he swung his leg up and slammed the sole of his shoe flat against the door. The door burst forward, opening almost one hundred and eighty degrees, as it strained harshly against the limited range of its hinges.

Joey lunged forward into the room. “Order up!” he shouted, torn between a desire to irritate Kaiba, and that to keep quiet enough so as not to disturb Satou-chan’s phone call.

He failed on both accounts. Satou-chan hushed him curtly from the other room. Kaiba was typing something up on his computer. He didn’t look up.

Joey felt himself sulk. He meandered, zigzagging across the carpeted floor on the way up to Kaiba’s desk. Kaiba still seemed wholly absorbed with whatever he was working on.

“Here,” Joey said, holding out the paper cup.

Joey waited patiently, as Kaiba finished what he was doing. Joey counted down the seconds, almost half a minute, before Kaiba finally looked up at the coffee cup steaming in Joey’s hand.

Kaiba seemed unsettled by this. “What is it?” he asked blankly.

Joey snorted. “Coffee,” he explained, somewhat rhetorically.

Kaiba looked at him warily.

Joey sighed. “Satou-chan asked me to make some for you,” he expanded.

Kaiba sat back in his seat and crossed his arms.

For a second, they stared at each other critically. Joey – with rapidly draining patience. The paper coffee cup was burning against his hand.

“Hn.” Kaiba frowned. “Drink some.”

Kaiba waited expectantly. Joey blinked.

“Who me?” he asked, disbelieving.

Kaiba nodded. “You drink some first.”

It took a moment for Joey to realise why.

“What am I?! Your taste tester?!” he exclaimed. But he lifted the coffee cup to his mouth and took a large sip through the hole in the coffee lid, slurping purposefully so Kaiba would get the idea.

The coffee was hot and bitter, and he swallowed it with a sigh.

“There! You happy?!” he challenged Kaiba. He pointedly slammed the coffee cup down on the desk in front of Kaiba.

Kaiba nodded curtly, but made no move towards the coffee.

“Good,” he said. “Now go get me another coffee lid that doesn’t have your germs all over it.”

Joey seethed, but no clever retort came to him. He stomped out of Kaiba’s office. Satou-chan was pressing numbers into the phone panel and sipping her coffee demurely. She looked curiously up at Joey as he passed.

Joey lightened his steps as he ran out into the lounge and behind the bar. He angrily swiped a clean coffee lid from the pile, and rushed back, stomping back into Kaiba’s office.

Kaiba was waiting for him, in the same position – reclined in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

Joey stepped forward and popped the lid off the coffee, and replaced it.

He crushed the old lid in his hand and shoved it in his pocket. He waited, now intent on seeing if Kaiba would actually drink his coffee.

Kaiba sat forward at his desk. He grabbed the coffee cup and lifted it to his face. His eyes set on Joey for a second, before they panned downward, as he pressed his lips to the coffee lid and drank.

His nose scrunched up in disgust, and he cringed harshly, before setting the coffee back down. His face was already back to its usual expressionless facet, and he didn’t pause before returning to his work.

Joey just stood there.

Kaiba didn’t say anything.

“What?” Joey growled.

Kaiba kept typing. He glanced up at Joey several times between clicks of his mouse, before he realised Joey wasn’t leaving.

“What?” Kaiba replied.

“The coffee, Kaiba,” Joey said doggedly. “What’s wrong with the coffee?!”

Kaiba blinked.

“I don’t know what you mean. Your completion of this task was satisfactory. You’re free to return to the rest of your work with Satou.”

“No! You didn’t like the coffee!” Joey insisted.

“The coffee is fine,” Kaiba retorted.

“No! No, it isn’t!” Joey said. “You made the _face_. _There!_ You made it again!” he pointed accusingly at Kaiba, who had taken another sip of the coffee and scrunched his face up distastefully in the process.

Kaiba glared. “Wheeler, the coffee is fine. I am _drinking_ the coffee. You are being insufferable.”

“No! No, I’m not!” Joey said. “Something’s wrong, and you won’t tell me what it is! And I didn’t go through all the trouble of wooing your stupid coffee machine, and tasting the coffee, and getting you a new _fucking_ lid, so you could make bitch faces every time you drink it! – Tell me what’s wrong with the coffee, Kaiba!”

“Did it ever occur to you,” Kaiba seethed, “that what’s wrong is that I’m trying to get work done, and some deadbeat _moron_ won’t stop _pestering_ me about _coffee_?!”

Joey opened his mouth to retort.

“ _Get the hell out of my office!_ ” Kaiba cut him off.

He was pointing, hand extended straight back to the door.

In the opposite direction, the neck of the Blue Eyes statue stretched out down over the city.

Something about the absurdity of it struck Joey the wrong way.

Kaiba was looking at him expectantly.

“ _Fine_!” Joey turned to go.

 _Kaiba could just_ drink _his shitty coffee and waste his whole day on the computer._

“But don’t think this is over, moneybags! You’ll get yours!” Joey threatened, turning back to Kaiba at the last minute.

He drew his fingers up to his eyes and motioned between them and Kaiba – _I’m watching you_ – and then, before he could register Kaiba’s reaction, Joey slipped out the office door and pulled it shut, hard.

Satou-chan shushed him. But it didn’t matter.

Joey glared at the closed door, still vibrating from the force of being slammed shut.

Kaiba wasn’t going to get his way in the end.

==

_“So what’s been going on with you?”_

_Joey blinked._

_“Er-_ Me _?” he asked, confused._

 _“Of course_ you _!” Mai laughed. “I’ve told you what I’ve been doing, haven’t I? What have you been up to?”_

_“Ah, well…” Joey fumbled. “Serenity’s started classes again… Yuugi, too… Honda’s still plugging along at the shop like normal… Have you heard from Anzu?” he asked._

_“Mmm,” Mai hummed in agreement. “We talked a couple of days ago.”_

_This was said so naturally, Joey felt reassured that Anzu hadn’t spilled the beans._

_“But it was you I was asking about, hon,” Mai said, expectantly._

_“Oh- I- Uh-” Joey felt himself redden, ashamed._

_What was there that he could possibly share with Mai? Mai travelled the world. She duelled internationally. She attended parties with professional athletes and movie stars. And she still made time to bike and sightsee and call_ him _. She shared all these adventures, and her life, and the_ world _with him._

_And his life just wasn’t as exciting in comparison. Duel Monsters cards in the drawer. Piles of laundry and bills and textbooks in Yuugi’s room. Broken dishes and sake bottles. Same old, same old._

_The most exciting thing in his life right now was_ Kaiba _. How_ sad _was that?!_

_And that was a secret – Right._

_Because he was going to save up from this job, and treat Mai once she got back in town –_

Right.

_“Well, you know me!” Joey huffed smartly into the phone. “I’m working hard and looking out for everyone here! And Youko-chan’s bustin’ my balls, but I’m the strongest guy she has to order around the warehouse, so she’d be a fool to get rid of me…” He snickered nervously. “Don’t worry about me, Mai,” he reassured. “I’m doing great.”_

_“Silly,” Mai scoffed. “_ Don’t worry, _you say. Of course, I-”_

_Mai cut off. Joey could hear her inhale deeply on the other end of the line._

_Joey was suddenly aware of where he was standing, leaning against a pillar in the metro station. The airport in background of Mai’s call blended in with the passers-by here in Japan, waiting for the train to take them home._

_“Mai?” Joey asked. He straightened his posture, leaned back against the pillar, and crossed his legs the opposite way. “Mai?”_

_He heard Mai inhale again on the other end of the line._

_“Sorry,” she said, distracted. “They’re starting to board my flight._ Finally _,” she huffed. “I should get going. You’ll tell me the rest later, right?”_

_Joey tried to listen past Mai’s voice. But he couldn’t hear anything._

_“Of course.” Joey reassured. He was relieved to have an out. “Have a good flight.”_

==

“Hey, if you’re in the go-home club at school, why is it you never go home?” Joey asked, narrowing his eyes at Mokuba on the other side of the restaurant table.

They’d gone to some fancy French place, and Mokuba had relocated the wine glasses and candelabrum to the floor, and spread a dice board over the top of the silk and lace table cloth.

“Because the manor sucks,” Mokuba answered succinctly. “…And also there’re too many cameras everywhere,” he added as an afterthought.

Joey snorted and bit back a smile. “Well, I get the first part at least. I never wanted to go home at your age either.”

“Don’t start comparing us now,” Mokuba snorted.

Mokuba rolled his dice, they bounced down on the board.

“Dammit!” Joey shouted, earning him a number of glares and shushes from the restaurant’s other patrons. “How do you keep getting three-of-a-kind?!” he demanded.

Mokuba speared the last shrimp off the plate at the centre of the table.

“Loaded dice – I made them myself,” he said proudly, before stuffing it in his mouth.

Joey gaped, clawed angrily at the edge of the tablecloth. “Y- You cheater!”

Mokuba smiled and chewed the shrimp happily.

He swallowed.

“I just wanted to test out the dice,” Mokuba said innocently. “You’re the one who said it was boring unless we bet something… And now, since I got won more than half the rolls. I also get to pick what we watch in the car.” He crossed his arms smugly over his chest.

“Still, you cheated!” Joey accused. “You ate all the shrimp… And we’re just going to end up watching more of your girly anime,” he pouted.

“It’s not girly!” Mokuba snapped defensively. “Just because it’s full of girls doesn’t make it girly! …And you like it too!”

Joey sulked.

“Here. I really did just want to test it out,” Mokuba placated. “Tsukuda!” he commanded. “Go track down the waiter and get us another order of shrimp! And some coffee! And-”

Mokuba waved his arm. For a minute he actually looked sheepish. “You know- Just in case…”

Tsukuda nodded stoically, and got up to go take care of it.

“Here, I’ll show you how I weighted the dice,” Mokuba soothed, scooting his chair closer to Joey’s.

With grubby fingers and cleanly cut nails, Mokuba pointed out where he’d drilled into the six pips on the face of the die, filled them with lead, and then covered and painted the holes with black clay.

Joey listened attentively. Tsukuda returned a moment later, and then came the waiter with more shrimp, and Joey devoured it eagerly along with the last of the asparagus fries and gravy, while listening to Mokuba’s explanation about the dice.

Joey wondered if Otogi knew about how to weight dice. Well, _of course_ he did. But Joey wondered if Serenity knew, too.

Abruptly, Joey’s attention turned to Mokuba instead. Mokuba’s long hair was pulled back behind his head in a long ponytail. His skin glowed patchy and tan. It was just by chance Joey ended up on babysitting duty, but Joey wondered if Mokuba genuinely liked spending time with him.

“How’s Seto doing?” Mokuba asked suddenly.

Joey startled at the non-sequitur. He blinked, and Mokuba had to give him a pointedly unimpressed look to get him back on track.

“Wouldn’t you know better than me?” Joey asked, tentatively.

Mokuba glared at him, and it didn’t hide the flush in Mokuba’s cheeks.

“He usually gets back to the manor after I’ve gone to sleep.”

And Joey knew Kaiba left early for work too.

“I mean, he seems… like himself,” Joey offered unsurely.

_He didn’t think he was imagining the emaciation in Kaiba’s form, or the bags under his eyes, or the uneasy way they approached each other in the office._

“He’s not very good at looking after himself, is he?” Joey asked, chuckling self-consciously.

Mokuba glared at him.

“Oh!” Joey realised suddenly. His fist curled shut.

Asking Mokuba was probably cheating but… It wasn’t like Kaiba played fair in the first place.

“How does your brother take his coffee?!” Joey demanded.

Mokuba went on the defensive immediately.

“Why do _you_ want to know?” he snarled.

This was bigger than something Mokuba could scare him away from, though. He’d brought Kaiba coffee every morning since Satou-chan had first asked him to make some. He’d tried weak coffee and strong coffee, coffee with cream and with sugar and without either. He’d borrowed different brands of grounds from the coffee stations on the other floors, and even brought some of the cheap brand he used at home. He’d made the best coffee he’d ever tasted, and intentionally sabotaged other cups. And he’d still failed to find a brew that didn’t make Kaiba wince, or a brew that Kaiba refused to drink.

“Because he won’t tell me!” Joey protested desperately. “He won’t just _tell me_ how he likes it!”

“Well, maybe there’s a reason for that,” Mokuba said, “ _deadbeat_.”

“Well, if there is a reason, it’s dumb!” Joey snapped irritably. “Why the hell would you force yourself to stomach something you didn’t even like, when there’s someone around offering to make it right, huh?”

“Hn,” Mokuba hummed inscrutably.

It was just then that the waiter appeared with Mokuba’s coffee and the check.

He cleared his throat. “Sir, I have your-”

With no more than a glance in the waiter’s direction, Mokuba reached into his pocket, and slapped a couple of bills over the waiter’s tray. He hooked his fingers around the handle of the coffee cup, and dragged it down off the tray. He blew softly over the surface of the liquid.

“Did you get my order for takeout?” Mokuba asked.

“Of course, sir,” the waiter replied. “It’ll be up in five minutes.”

Joey turned to the waiter. Joey could only see the man’s face for a second. He took in wrinkles in his brow and the clean shaven face, before the waiter turned and carried the check away.

Mokuba was carefully sipping from his coffee cup. Joey looked enviously at the simplicity of the dark black liquid. If only Kaiba was as easily satisfied as Mokuba.

The conversation seemed over, until they were in the lobby. The waiter had found Mokuba again, brought him the food he’d ordered to-go.

The waiter bowed to Mokuba, and Mokuba grabbed hold of the plastic handles and shoved the bag into Joey’s hands so fast Joey almost dropped it.

“Here. Take this to my brother,” Mokuba commanded. He crossed his arms over his chest and sneered at Joey. “No stealing any for yourself. Make sure he eats it.”

Joey fumbled the bag. He finally managed a good grip on both sides and pried it open. He looked down at the opaque plastic box. Curious about the contents, Joey leaned in to try and distinguish the dish by smell.

“What is it?” Joey asked.

“Filet mignon,” Mokuba replied. His face was red. “It’s just about all he’ll eat... But he likes steak sandwiches too.”

Joey didn’t think he’d ever seen Kaiba eat steak. But, then, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Kaiba eat at all. He’d never seen Kaiba bring lunch into his office. He’d never seen Satou-chan order anything for him.

“Not much for Japanese food, is he?” Joey quarried. Thinking about the extravagance of the French restaurant, and his old rice cooker at home.

“Sometimes I slip him some dashi broth or miso soup,” Mokuba admitted. “He’ll agree to eat sushi on a good day. But, overall, no.”

Joey fiddled with the takeout bag. He closed it, and swung it carefully over his shoulder.

“Well, I’ll make sure he gets it,” Joey assured.

They weren’t done though.

“Espresso,” Mokuba answered.

Joey’s ears perked.

_That was a type of coffee, right?_

Mokuba shrugged when Joey looked at him.

“He likes coffee strong and will take as many espresso shots as you give him – but don’t give him more than two!” Mokuba warned. “He’s doped up on caffeine and arginine enough as it is!”

Mokuba tugged at the front of his uniform’s blazer. Joey was reminded suddenly of the old Mokuba – the one who cried to Yuugi on the Duellist Kingdom Island. He looked too small for his clothes, and too nice for how he was acting.

“Also cream,” Mokuba said. “Cream and sugar. Just- fill the coffee cup up two thirds of the way, and just pour espresso and creamer over the rest of it.”

Joey winced. Covered it up with a smile of disbelief.

“I know,” Mokuba cut him off. He stuck out his tongue, disgusted. “But just do it.”

==

“Here! You need to eat this!” Joey said, plopping the takeout bag over Kaiba’s desk. If the sauce leaked onto his paperwork, Joey decided that was only right.

The sauce did not leak. And Kaiba looked up after a moment.

“What is it?” he asked, bored.

“You need to eat this,” Joey repeated, pointing at the bag.

“I do not.” Kaiba’s eyes narrowed. “But my question was ‘What is _it_?’ as in ‘What is it that you think I need to eat?’”

Joey shrugged.

“I dunno. Some kind of steak with some kind of goose sauce. Mokuba picked it out for you… So you do need to eat it,” he insisted, pointing down at the box seriously. “Or Mokuba will be upset.”

Kaiba snorted. “He’s a teenager. He’s always upset.”

The fading light of dusk outside the office windows threw everything into shades of grey.

Joey groaned. “C’mon, Kaiba… You’re starving yourself in here. And I have it on good authority that this is your favourite.”

“Hn,” Kaiba grunted. He smoothed the plastic of the takeout bag. “ _Les Frères Heureux_ ,” he read the logo. “Where is my brother even dragging you around to?” he muttered.

“Yeah, it’s a weird place,” Joey laughed. “But that’s not all!” he said, waving a paper coffee cup out from behind his back. “I made coffee.”

Kaiba sighed.

“No, no! I’m sure I got it this time,” Joey insisted. He lifted up the cup and took a sip. He winced at the sweet over-caffeinated monstrosity of his creation, and quickly set it down on the edge of the desk. He replaced the lid for Kaiba, and handed it over.

Kaiba sighed again and accepted the coffee.

“I don’t know why this game is so appealing to you, Wheeler,” he said. He lifted the cup to his mouth and drank.

And he _didn’t_ cringe.

It took Joey a full few seconds to realise it. And then-

“Yes!” Joey cheered, pumping his fists up in victory. “Yes! You like the coffee! Vic-to-ry!”

Kaiba glared. “I keep _telling_ you, Wheeler. The coffee you make is _fine_. Now will you _please – let it go_?!”

He took another gulp of the coffee. He didn’t cringe this time either.

“Oh, thank god. It wasn’t a false alarm,” Joey sighed in relief, headless of Kaiba’s increasing irritation. He bit his lip trying to pull back his grin. “So… are you going to eat the steak, too?” he prodded.

“You’re dismissed, Wheeler,” Kaiba grit out. “You’ve delivered what Mokuba sent to me. You’ve fulfilled your obligations.”

“Nuh-uh,” Joey protested. “Mokuba said I had to make sure you eat the whole thing.”

Kaiba groaned. “Wheeler, who exactly do you think you work for? Me or Mokuba?”

Joey lifted his hand up, scratched at his chin, and pretended to think about it. “Hmm… I still haven’t decided yet…” he said.

Kaiba pressed the button for the intercom. “Satou!” he shouted. “Get in here and find something for this _idiot_ to do!”

Joey didn’t need to be told. He snickered and slunk out of the office, content in that he had bothered Kaiba enough for now, and maybe left enough of an impression so that Kaiba would actually follow through on Mokuba’s request.

As it turned out, Kaiba did eat all the steak and did drink all the coffee. And Joey knew this because both made a reappearance. He opened the door to Kaiba’s office, to run something by him for Satou-chan, and was greeted by the sour smell of vomit and sound of Kaiba retching over a wastepaper basket. The sheer amount of rich food he had eaten on an otherwise empty stomach had apparently not sat well with him.

_At all._

“Kaiba-sama?” Satou-chan said, making her way to the door, concerned. “Should I call-”

“ _Out_!” Kaiba announced, between heaves. And Satou-chan, ever graceful, took the message for what it was and stepped out of the doorway.

Joey did not.

“Kaiba-” he prodded. He walked up next to where Kaiba was leaned over the armrest of his chair, face curled above the wastebasket, and hesitated. “Kaiba, are you-” He reached out to brush his fingers across the shoulder of Kaiba’s jacket.

And, for his troubles, Kaiba grabbed a pen from his desk, stabbed it through Joey’s jeans at his thigh, and then sicked up over Joey’s pant leg.

And Joey found himself stuck in the corner of one of the empty Kaiba Corp labs, trying to hose vomit off his leg into a sink that was specifically for biohazardous waste, pressing his fingers over the bruise left by Kaiba’s pen, and wondering _why the hell_ he was doing this.

 _Because you_ need _this job_ , Kaiba had said. _You’re a pathetic louse living on the scummy dregs of society. You couldn’t_ dream _of finding another job with this kind of pay and prestige. And you know it._

And, yeah, Joey had thought he was pushing it when he asked Satou-chan to approve him for his current pay rate. And then Satou-chan had just nodded and noted it down like it was nothing.

And, sure, Joey had grand fantasies of levelling the playing field with Mai, or of having enough money to foot the bill for a nicer apartment in the less crappy part of town.

But those dreams had more working against them than what could be counteracted by a steady job and a solid salary. (Nevermind that working in close contact with Kaiba was, by definition, not a steady job.) And none of it could hide the fact that Kaiba was just _wrong_.

Joey didn’t _need_ the job at Kaiba Corp. He wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_ it, to be honest.

But then Kaiba tried to fire him. Because apparently it was Joey’s fault he’d thrown up and also _stabbed Joey in the leg_.

And he didn’t even have the decency to do it in person. Satou-chan called Joey on the phone that evening and told him his presence at Kaiba Corp was no longer required. And when Joey had told her Kaiba had another thing coming if he thought he could pull this bullshit and he’d be there bright and early tomorrow, she didn’t even argue with him – which was as good as an admission that she thought Kaiba was being pretty _goddamn_ petty too.

And then Joey barged straight into Kaiba’s office the next morning and argued with him about it until it was time to pick up Mokuba from school. And then they spent the next two days holed up on opposite sides of Kaiba’s office doors. When Joey wasn’t running down to other departments, they passed business orders back and forth through Satou-chan, and pretended the other didn’t exist when they passed each other going in and out of the top office.

It was starting to feel a little too much like a routine.

Mokuba had snickered when he heard the story and suggested that maybe they shouldn’t have piled too much on Kaiba right from the beginning – maybe Joey should try giving him some watered-down broth and only half a portion of filet mignon. And Joey had just nodded and said that sounded like a better place to start.

==

“I’m just saying…” Honda paused as he took a deep draught of his beer. He hunched his shoulders and leaned up over the high table. “I’m always the last to know whenever you decide to go and do something stupid.”

Joey was shuffling a deck of playing cards in his hand, and at that exact moment they spilled out from under his palms and fanned out every which-way over the table. He scowled at them sideways, from where he was slouched, his cheek pressed flat against the wood. Without getting up, he scrambled the cards back together in his hands.

“Aw, shuddup!” he growled at Honda. “That isn’t true. I’m always telling you crap.”

“Are you, though?” Honda raised a critical eyebrow. “Nah, it’s always Yuugi and Anzu that hear about your dumb shit. Like that time you ditched Serenity before her operation, and Yuugi got the phone call. And you were living in Anzu’s pocket that entire time during Battle City finals. And that time you took that crappy customer service stint all the way out in the ‘burbs and didn’t sleep for a week… And don’t even get me started on middle school – all the stuff I only learned by shaking it out of Hirutani’s gang.”

“Fuck you,” Joey said mildly. He flipped the cards back around in the deck, so they were all facing the same way. The king of clubs was the last, and Joey flipped him around so he could only see the red and blue pattern on the back of the cards. “What about that time you got yourself killed in virtual reality, and I didn’t find out until you were already a robot monkey?”

“Hey, that was a noble sacrifice!” Honda protested. He raised his hand to his chest importantly. “I did it for your sister, okay?”

Joey snorted.

“And, well,” Honda laughed self-consciously, “I guess, I’m also not all that good at Duel Monsters… Good thing Otogi was there.” He grinned and elbowed Joey in the side. “After all, we can’t all be pro duellist material like you. Eh, Loser?”

Joey scowled. He was laying the cards out across the table for another game of solitaire. But Honda had ruined the appeal. He pulled the cards back into a pile.

“Yeah, some pro duellist I turned out to be.”

“Oh, god.” Honda sighed. “You’re taking it seriously. You’re no fucking fun when you start taking my bullshit seriously.” He took another drink of his beer, more moodily this time. “Here.” He pushed a couple of dishes across the table. “It’s awkward enough being the only one drinking. At least eat some edamame and karaage.”

When Joey didn’t respond, Honda pushed the appetisers closer to him, so the dishes pressed against the side of Joey’s arm. When Joey _still_ didn’t respond, he picked them up and set them right in front of Joey’s face.

Joey was finally forced to move. He turned his head up, crossed his arms over the table, and slouched down facing forward instead.

“I don’t want any snacks, okay?!” Joey snapped. He stared forward through the bar. It was dimly lit in faded orange and green. The server girls were dressed in brown and white lace, and carrying flagons of beer in both hands. The short skirts and long legs and black heels made him so horny, it was depressing. And the guys at the bar, they were in these stupid vests with suspenders, and-

Joey looked away and glared down at the bowl of edamame. “It’s only two hundred yen if you buy it at the grocery store.”

Honda popped a piece of chicken karaage in his mouth and chased it with some beer. “You’re the one who wanted to go out,” he said.

“Yeah!” Joey bristled. “But I’m not the one who decided on some stupid-ass overpriced themed bar!” He sat up in his seat and waved angrily at the surroundings. “What’s the _theme_ even supposed to be?”

Honda snorted. “I dunno, man… Medieval European wench-y Oktoberfest something-or-other…” Honda waved a hang vaguely.

“That serves edamame?” Joey demanded.

“Does it matter? It’s just for fun.” Honda snorted. “You know, it’s my day off too. I work hard all week. I don’t want to spend my day-off eating cheap-ass snacks from the grocery store and listening to you bitch.”

“Well, that’s what you’re doing!” Joey snapped.

“Well, yeah,” Honda grinned. He took a swig of his beer. “But I’m doing it in a nice bar at least!”

Joey sulked.

“C’mon,” Honda prodded, he leaned over on his barstool, so it rocked dangerously back and forth. and wrapping an arm around Joey’s shoulder. “I know for a fact that you think specialty food and corsets are pretty great~”

The problem with Honda, Joey decided, was that the asshole knew him far too well.

“Too expensive…” Joey shook Honda off.

“What?” Honda snickered. “I thought you were raking in the big bucks over at Kaiba’s place?”

“Check won’t come in for a couple weeks at least,” Joey said.

“Then let me treat you and pay me back.”

There was nothing wrong with Honda’s line of argument, except the part where Joey didn’t like it.

Joey dug his phone out of his pocket, and scrolled through the messages.

Honda was struggling with his beer and shelling the edamame beans. He might have been saying something, but Joey was absorbed, frowning bitterly at his text exchange with Anzu.

There was the original one he’d sent, with the picture of his keycard and Kaiba Corp ID.

_Guess who’s a certified KC employee as of this morning._

Anzu had typed back a rather sharp response.

 _This is a stupid idea and you know it. He thinks you’re a_ nobody _, Joey. All you have to do is look at your ID to see it._

Joey had typed back a short but convincing argument.

_¥2500/hr_

Anzu had taken a while to respond to that. She put off answering for almost twenty-four hours. And then-

 _Damn. You’re treating_ me _to lunch next time I’m in town._

Joey’s thoughts were interrupted when the phone started ringing. And Joey only had to glance at the caller ID. He flipped the phone open immediately.

“Yuugi!” Joey answered brightly. Too brightly. Yuugi had ditched him the day before.

“Joey!” Yuugi greeted in return. “Hey~ Are you busy right now?”

Honda was leaning close, pressing his ear near the earpiece. Joey elbowed him in the torso, and pressed him away.

“Nah, what’s up?” he asked.

Yuugi laughed a bit nervously. “Er, I wanted to apologise again about yesterday.”

There was a tightness in his brow and a bitter sting in his stomach that Joey couldn’t stop. “Eh, don’t worry about it, Yuugi. I know how it is. If you’ve got projects for school that have to get done, that’s not something that can wait.” The disingenuity of his own words made Joey’s forehead tense even more.

“Thanks Joey!” Yuugi beamed.

It was said so completely without guile. With his left hand, Joey rubbed at his temples.

“But the real reason I called,” Yuugi continued, “is because my research department’s getting together Thursday night to celebrate our professor’s proposal getting funding. It’s really informal, and we’ve already invited a bunch of friends from different departments…”

Joey scooted forward on his barstool.

“So I’d really like it if you could come too!” Yuugi continued. “I want introduce you to all my friends at university! And they’ve all heard a lot about you- heh~ from me I mean~ So they’re really looking forward to meeting you too!” Yuugi stalled. “Do you think you can make it Thursday night?”

“Er…” Joey scratched his elbow. Honda grinned at him over his beer mug.

“Oh! You don’t have to worry about drinking,” Yuugi reassured. “We’re going to a place with a good variety on the menu, so... And they’ve got a whole parlour of arcade games too! I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun. And-”

Joey held back a gulp in the back of his throat.

“If anybody gives you a hard time about abstaining, I’ll sort them out for you,” Yuugi said seriously. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

Joey felt himself blush. Yuugi sounded so cool. He was so tiny, and cute, but somehow he’d grown into a really cool guy – a man who could protect the people around him.

_Shit, he was cool._

“Listen, I’m not a little kid!” Joey snapped. He realised how harsh it sounded, and backed it up with a carefree laugh. “I mean, I can drink. I can hold my liquor,” he said. “And if I don’t feel like drinking, I can tell them to back off myself.”

“Joey…” Yuugi said sadly.

“Nah, it’s just-” Joey ran his fingers over the plastic cover of his cell phone. “It’s just… I’ve got work.”

“…We’re not meeting up until just before midnight,” Yuugi said.

“Early in the morning,” Joey continued. “I’m running late shifts, and I’ve got to get to work early… so, uh… Sorry, Yuugi.”

_He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to sit with a bunch of uni students. Uni students who thought they were so smart because they had mommy and daddy to pay for them to study between parties. He didn’t want to sit there and feel stupid and have them judge him for being... whatever he was. Uni students were so… Pompous. Vain. Snotty know-it-all losers._

_Except Yuugi and Serenity were university students too._

_…But they were different. They were… They were just_ different _, okay?!_

“Oh, um, you’re right,” Yuugi faltered. “It was inconsiderate of me. I didn’t consider how tiring and time-consuming being out in the workforce must be. We’ll miss you on Thursday! But taking care of yourself is more important. Tell Kaiba not to work you too hard!”

Joey sighed. “Thanks, Yuu-”

Honda grabbed the phone out of Joey’s hand before he could finish.

“Hey! Yuugi! You mind if Ryuuji and I tag along then?” Honda blared into the phone.

“H-Honda-kun?” Joey heard Yuugi stammer on the other end of the line. “Oh- Of course you can!”

Joey crossed his arms and slouched over the table as Honda laughed into the phone line. He let his mind wander, staring at the waitresses and their corsets and- He hadn’t drunk anything, but the world felt dizzying and bleary.

He caught snippets of the phone conversation.

“Nah~” Honda laughed. “Don’t take it personally. He’s being weird tonight.” There was a pause. “Yeah _sure_ , ‘overworked’.”

Joey took the opportunity to kick Honda in the shin.

“He kicked me, that son-of-a-bitch,” Honda squealed dramatically into the phone. He laughed again. “No prob~ See you on Thursday, Yuugi.”

He snapped the phone shut. He flipped it in his hand and tapped it against Joey’s head.

“You wanna talk about it?” Honda asked.

Joey swiped his phone out of Honda’s hand and pocketed it.

“Fuck off,” he began to say.

But Honda was one step ahead of him. He popped a handful of chicken karaage inside Joey’s open mouth, before Joey could get a word out.

“Life sucks sometimes, huh?” Honda asked, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Hmmumph.” Joey chewed and nodded his agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Les Frères Heureux_ is stolen from the sitcom _Frasier_. It’s the name of a French restaurant Frasier and Niles open together as an ill-conceived and short-lived entrepreneurial venture. The name means _The Happy Brothers_ in English. The irony of this is, perhaps, obvious.


	6. Copy Machine, Roller Coaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Chapter is 16.5k. Sorry it’s so long, but I couldn’t figure out where to split it~
> 
> Also, setting the record straight in advance – Nia Vardalos wrote based off her experiences growing up as part of the Greek Orthodox community in _Canada_ , but I figured the subtlety of Canada vs the USA would be lost on Anzu. _Listen, you just can’t trust anything anyone says in this fic._

Joey burst through the revolving door, ignoring both the office lady he’d elbowed on his way in and the indignant glare of the Blue Eyes statue above the entrance.

He was running late. He’d run all the way from the station, and his baby blue t-shirt was starting to stick to his back from the sweat, but it felt wrong to run within the building itself. He slowed to a jog, and then a power walk, as the judgemental looks from his fellow office workers that had followed him all the way up the building plaza finally caught up to him. He pulled at the back of his shirt, and narrowed his eyes at the elevator.

“Joey-kun,” someone called. “Joey-kun! Joey Wheeler-kun!”

Joey turned quickly on his way past the front desk. It was Keiko. Mami was standing close behind her.

“Hi! Catch up later! Bye!” Joey waved, intent on the elevator.

Keiko’s eyes narrowed. “Joey-kun! Get back here!” Keiko called.

When Joey didn’t answer, she leaned over the reception desk. One of her legs flung up behind her, trying to hold balance. Mami blushed, and closed in behind her, to cover where someone might see up her skirt.

“Jou-nou-chi!” Keiko yelled.

Joey halted, face red. Everybody was looking between the two of them. Keiko seemed even less concerned about this than he was. He jogged back over to the desk, his keycard flapped against his chest. Keiko smiled smugly as she pushed herself back down, off the counter.

“What is it, Keiko-san?” Joey asked. “I need to be up at the top floor in-”

He checked his phone. _8:56._

“-four minutes.” He sighed. “It’s gonna take me longer than that to run across the sixty-fifth floor.”

Keiko ignored him. “Joey-kun, you’re the first person who stopped for us.” She beamed. “As you should be.”

“Keiko-san, you didn’t climb on the desk for anyone else…” Mami pointed out quietly.

“Eh~ Whatever happened to professionalism?” Joey complained.

“Non-existent where you seem to be concerned, Joey-kun,” Keiko retorted. “But the important thing is, Mami-chan and I are having trouble with the copy machine. It was jamming again but, even when we pulled the paper out, it wouldn’t restart. It’d be good to have another set of eyes on it. Can you take a look?”

“What? Right _now_?” Joey asked.

Keiko and Mami regarded him, unfazed.

“Keiiikooo?! Whyyyy?!” Joey whined. He was running in place in front of the desk. “Keiko~! Keeeeiko-san! You’re bustin’ my balls here~! I’m supposed to be at work right now~!”

“Oh, hush up, Joey-kun,” Keiko protested. “You owe me a favour for showing you how to work the espresso machine in the break room the other day!”

Joey groaned. It was true he probably never would have figured out how to make Kaiba his winning cup of coffee without her.

“Fine,” he agreed. “But can you at least put a call up to Satou-chan and tell her you guys are the reason I’m running late?”

Keiko clicked her tongue. “Ah, but then you’d owe me _another_ favour, Joey-kun. And then we’d be right back in the same position we started in.”

“Fine. Fine. Forget it. Let’s see this dumb copy machine of yours.” Joey grumbled, as he circled around the reception desk and climbed over the gate that separated the back area from the front.

Mami met him on the other side, and bowed shortly to him. Joey bowed shortly back. He felt awkward and stiff about it, and was glad when Keiko appeared to lead him away through the door to the back room.

The back room was full of industrial office equipment – a scanner, a laminator, a combined printer and copy machine, and a more bulky computer than the one at the reception desk. The copy machine was flashing red lights, but the laminator was also broken. It had a dusty note taped across the front – _Out of Order_ – with a doodled caricature of an office lady bowing in apology. The whole thing seemed to emanate Keiko’s style.

Along the far wall was a counter with a sink and an electric kettle. There was a large array of cleaning supplies all shoved in the corner and, next to it, a pile of sheer brown thigh-high stockings and scrunches were piled messily on the floor. There was also a circular table, where someone had left an open make-up case. Joey took note of the soft nude of the cover-up, and the pale pink of the lipstick.

It was different than the shining purple Mai used for eyeshadow and lip gloss, and the light peach she brushed her cheeks with. Sometimes she’d kiss him and it’d brush off on his face, and he’d get revenge by marring up the rest of her skin with more kisses that left purple streaks and peach blotches all over her arms and legs and neck.

Joey sighed at the copy machine.

Keiko had reverted back to crisp and professional, as she narrated the surroundings to Joey, and indicated where the problem was, but Joey wasn’t listening, and eventually she took a seat on top of the counter, next to the sink, and crossed her legs primly.

Joey was still thinking about Mai. And, then, abruptly, when he wasn’t – he thought about his being late for work. Maybe Satou-chan would be forgiving when he explained he got held up helping Mami and Keiko. Or maybe… he didn’t know. He and Satou-chan had never discussed disciplinary measures for misbehaviour on the job. Maybe being late didn’t matter at all. But it felt wrong. It felt wrong not to rush with the whole world rushing around him. And if he didn’t show up…

And he wondered if Kaiba had eaten breakfast. He wondered if people understood what breakfast even was, if they didn’t sleep at night. He wondered if breakfast was dinner in Majorca.

 _Blah, blah. Did androids dream of electric sheep and all that._ Joey rolled his eyes.

He examined the inside of the paper tray. Keiko and Mami had pulled out most of the paper responsible for the jam, but there were a couple of small shreds stuck in the roller. He pulled at them with his fingers, and cursed when the paper sliced his skin.

The roller itself seemed to have its own problems though. It wasn’t rolling smoothly. Joey checked where it was connected.

“Oi, Keiko. You got some duct tape and a screwdriver – phillips? It’s no wonder you’ve been having problems. The roller’s not set in correctly. It looks like the plastic fixture on the side is broken.” He adjusted it with his fingers. “And I’ll check the electric panel for ya, too.”

“Mmm, do you know what you’re doing, Joey-kun?” Keiko said sceptically, even as Joey heard her slide off the counter and rummage through some cabinet.

“Yea-!” Joey said proudly. “I was always good with handsy stuff like this. Model kits and stuff. I’ve probably repaired my television half a dozen times.”

“Oh, wow, amazing!” Keiko allowed, as she handed over the tools.

Keiko continued to cheerlead for him, as he fashioned the duct tape into twine, that would hold the roller in place. He had the feeling Keiko was just humouring him, but it didn’t matter. He felt himself resist the urge to preen, as he tightened the fixture and tweaked some of the wiring.

The copy machine whirred to life as he finally shut the panel on its side.

“Thanks so much, Joey-kun,” Keiko bowed shortly. “Mami-chan and I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Aw, it was nothing,” Joey grinned importantly.

He hesitated, before pointing to the laminator with his screwdriver.

“Should we see what’s wrong with that thing, too?”

==

“Joey, do we have any more clean towels?” a voice shouted from the bathroom.

Joey held back a sigh.

“Was that Dad?” Serenity asked. The static raved, and her voice came out scratchy. “Did I hear Dad just now? Did he need something?”

This time Joey did sigh. His dad knew damn well that Joey had done the laundry a day ago, and that the clean towels were stacked on the dresser in the living room.

“He’s fine, sis,” Joey grumbled into his phone. “Keep talkin’.”

Serenity hummed in agreement, and Joey stood up from where he was sitting, legs crossed, on top of his futon. He kicked at the quilt with his foot and took a couple steps towards the dresser.

“It was good we caught the last snow of the season,” Serenity was saying. “I made a fool of myself, but I’ve always wanted to try skiing…” Serenity trailed off wistfully.

“Joey! Where are the towels?!”

Joey was waiting when his dad peeked out past the bathroom door. He flung a towel directly at his father’s head from across the room. It found its target, catching him straight in the face, and draping down around his neck.

His father was grinning as he pulled the towel down.

“Thanks, Jo-”

Joey grit his teeth and hushed his father with a glare. He pointed roughly to the phone and roughly mouthed the syllables that made up Serenity’s name.

His dad brightened knowingly, and gave a thumbs up before retreating back to hover over the bathroom sink. Joey could hear him coughing to the mirror.

 _Shit, he better not be getting sick_ , Joey thought. _He’d_ better _not_!

“Joey?” Serenity asked curiously into the phone.

 _Right. Serenity_! _Skiing_! Joey floundered for something to say.

“Eh, I’m sure you did fine, Serenity,” Joey laughed. “You’re good at everything ya do!”

Serenity huffed softly at the other end of the line.

“That’s not true, onii-chan. I fell on my butt over a dozen times!” she whined. “There are lots of things I’m not good at…” she trailed off.

Giving this a cursory consideration, Joey could not think of anything Serenity was not good at. And, when Serenity didn’t rush to inform him otherwise, he let his mind drift. He picked at the seam on the couch cushion. He felt disappointed when it split open with only a few prying flicks of his finger.

He asked how Serenity was doing with her classes. She wasn’t at uni to spend all her time skiing, _was she_? he asked, half-joking.

“Of course not, onii-san,” Serenity said. “I’ve got so many people counting on my success, I just-”

Joey felt himself pause. He glanced to the bathroom door, to where the sink was running.

“Serenity, don’t feel like you have to take on all the responsibility for everyone else. Even if you fail – and you won’t – you’ve got me here to pick up the pieces – no matter what.”

Serenity hummed noncommittally. “I know that onii-san. But for the first time, it feels like people really _believe_ I can succeed!”

Joey startled. There was something nostalgic about what Serenity was saying. Bittersweet.

“You know,” Serenity continued. “I don’t think anybody thought I’d do much, with my eyesight being what it was. They used to worry. They used to say right in front of me, that they didn’t know what they were going to do, with a blind girl to support.”

Joey abruptly had to stop listening. He wasn’t sure what to do with the anger and the bile rising in his throat.

“Even with you and Mom helping me out so much, Grandfather and Grandmother had to chip in for my living expenses this semester…” Serenity sighed. “I really hate having to rely on them.”

Joey was looking at the door. The water had stopped running. He could hear his father coughing on the other side of the door.

“They’re always so hard on Mother,” Serenity complained. “They keep bothering her about getting remarried, and asking when she’ll be out of the house. But, as soon as she starts making plans for her future, they’re hounding her about not helping out her elders. And I want to tell them off but- you know- Mom can’t afford my tuition and living expenses herself- I don’t know what to say when they’re helping me out the way they are. And-”

For some reason, he couldn’t ignore it. And he knew it was hard on Serenity. He knew the kind of responsibility and weight that built up through the persistence of living, but-

“Listen, Sis. Stop. I don’t want to hear about it.” Joey cut her off.

He exhaled. The silence was awful. But at least she wasn’t talking about the Kawai family anymore.

“Onii-chan,” Serenity prodded, after a minute.  “I know your relationship with Mom has never been the best, but- You have to admit-”

“ _I. Don’t. Want. To. Hear. It._ ”

The words slipped out, tense and coarse, between his gritted teeth.

Serenity quieted.

He was saved by the bell twice over. Jounouchi senior exited the bathroom, his towel draped around his waist, and a second call started ringing though on Joey’s cell phone.

He checked the number, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Another call’s coming in, Sis. And, er-” Joey covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand. “The man himself is kinda in a position to listen in right now. Promise we can talk later?” he pleaded.

If Serenity wasn’t pleased with the diversion, she wasn’t willing to break their unspoken code. There were just certain things you didn’t talk about, once Mom or Dad walked in on the other end of the line.

“Alright. Talk to you later, onii-san,” she said.

Joey switched the call over quickly, and pointedly didn’t read into the disappointed lilt to his sister’s voice. He flipped another towel off the dresser, over his shoulder, and began digging through the drawers for a jacket.

“Anzu!” Joey cried, relieved, into the phone. “Talk to me!”

Anzu huffed.

“Well, that’s a brighter greeting than I’ve come to expect from you,” she said.

“You caught me at a good time, for once,” Joey said. “What’s up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Anzu said. “I just got out of a movie. It made me think of you.”

Joey laughed. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What was it about?”

He pulled an old sports jacket out of the drawer. The patches of teal-coloured leather on the shoulders were cracked and brittle. But the interior layer was fuzzy and warm.

Anzu’s phone rattled. “It was about this woman whose parents were from Greece. She gets married to an American, and ends up doing a lot of silly things in order to appease her family and have a nice and happy wedding.” Anzu snickered. “It was kind of dumb, but kind of charming. With a happy ending. Very American.”

“What’re you tryin’ to say?!” Joey said, offended. He dodged around the carpet and ran to catch up with his father. “How’d that remind you of me?”

Anzu giggled.

“Well, it didn’t remind me of you, so much as it reminded me of watching movies with you at Yuugi’s place,” she said. “You always used to provide the most unnecessary commentary. Impersonations and comparing everyone to the characters. I remember you screaming over half of _The Ring_ and ruining it for everyone.”

“‘Ey- ‘Ey!” Joey protested. “I never signed on for that. It’s not my fault Bakura snuck that into the line-up.” He clicked his tongue. “Sadako-chan can kiss my ass!”

“Oh?” Anzu said. “And what do you think she’ll do if she hears you say-?”

“ _Don’t_!” Joey shivered. He wiped away the sweat that had beaded on his forehead. He wasn’t _scared_.

It was cold in the room. His father had the refrigerator open. He shuffled the sake bottles from side to side, looking for something.

Anzu laughed. “I swear you had the script to half of those 60s movies memorised… I didn’t think it was possible, for a kid in this day and age.”

Joey snuck behind his father. He pressed his phone into his ear with his shoulder, and swung the towel he was carrying around his dad’s shoulders. He pulled his father back, sharply, and watched the fridge slammed shut.

“Hey, you pick up stuff when you’ve got no place to go,” Joey laughed, as he pulled the towel over his dad’s head, and furiously rubbed the water out of his dark brown hair. “I can’t even say how many Classic Chambara summer movie marathons I snuck into when I was a kid. Ah, man~” he sighed. “I’d watch the same films over and over, and never get sick of them~”

His father whined in protest, as Joey ground the towel into the top of his head, with a little more force than was necessary. “Jou-y!”

 _Eventually, they stop letting you get away with it, though_ , Joey remembered. _Eventually you’re old enough that they demand compensation when they catch you sneaking into the cinema._

“Mmm, we have to watch more movies together, once we have the chance,” Anzu said firmly.

Joey rubbed his dad’s shoulder’s through the towel.

“But, hey- Joey,” Anzu said, more softly than usual. “I wanted to say… I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time about the new job and all. I was just worried about you. If Kaiba’s behaving himself, and all your hard work’s paying off and you’re finally making decent wages – who am I to question it?”

Joey flustered. He was drying behind his father’s ears now. If Anzu was being candid and forgiving, he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“If things are going well, there’s no need to make it complicated, right?” Anzu was asking.

“Jo-” his father began, before descending into a fit of coughs. The seemed to fill the entire room – loud, hacking coughs. Joey could hear the sound of vibrating phlegm.

“Joey?” Anzu asked firmly, across the phone. “Is that your father?”

Joey pulled his hands back. His father sniffled. He reached up to pull off the towel Joey had been smothering him with.

“Yea-” Joey said.

Anzu paused.

Joey looked down to his feet, ashamed. He’d killed the conversation.

But then he was angry again. This wasn’t his fault! If Anzu could just-!

“Listen,” Anzu said, “if you’re busy, maybe I should call back later.”

“Yeah, _maybe_ ,” Joey said. He wasn’t fully able to contain the bite to his words.

Anzu paused again. She let it slide.

“Take care,” she said, before hanging up.

Joey resisted the urge to slam the phone down on the ground. He pocketed it.

He retrieved the towel from his dad, and tossed it over his shoulder. He unwrapped the sports jacket at his elbow, and pulled his father’s arm through the sleeve. As gently as he could, he pulled the jacket up over his father’s shoulder.

Jounouchi senior sniffled. “Thanks,” he croaked.

“Don’t get sick,” Joey said, softly. “Stay warm – ya _hear_ me? Take care.”

==

Joey dumped half the packet of seasoning into the boiling water, and watched it spread out. The pieces of dehydrated daikon and carrot and tofu were pitifully small, but they blossomed anyhow, expanded as they greedily absorbed the water.

 _Good enough_ , was Joey’s only thought, as he snapped the lid on the coffee cup. He swirled the contents of the cup, holding it over the counter, as he bent down to pull a roll from the fridge.

Mokuba had given him a thousand yen. He’d offered more but, if Joey was good for anything, it was feeding people on a budget.

He’d bought an economy box of instant soup packets, and a big bag of day-old, but still good, bakery rolls – which he’d shoved directly in the mini-fridge in Kaiba Corp’s empty sky lounge. At one roll and half a cup of soup each morning, he’d managed to feed Kaiba breakfast on one hundred and twenty-five yen a day. Crappy expensive coffee excluded.

_Value._

Joey balanced the two cups of coffee in the crook of his arm, and juggled the soup and roll in the other.

He dropped Satou-chan’s coffee on her desk – easily distinguishable from Kaiba’s by virtue that the cup was filled all the way – and proceeded to grab for his keycard to unlock the door into Kaiba’s office.

Kaiba was sitting at his desk, absorbed in the computer and the phone, as usual. Joey walked up and piled the soup and coffee and roll onto his desk. He took a deep satisfaction to the way that Kaiba reached for the food without hesitation.

He intercepted Kaiba’s hand, and leaned in over the desk.

“Sure ya don’t want me taste test if for you?” He spoke under his breath, in deference to the fact that Kaiba was in the middle of a phone conversation. “That confident I haven’t poisoned you, huh?”

Kaiba responded by planting his hand in Joey’s face and shoving him away.

“Aw, man,” Joey protested. His right eye teared up automatically, with the way his nose stung from the impact of the bony joints in Kaiba’s hands. He raised a hand to rub away the discomfort, and used it to cover his grin.

For a while, Joey had insisted on perpetuating their taste testing routine – loudly and dramatically taking sips of Kaiba’s soup during phone calls, and picking off bread crumbs from the roll to taste. But then Kaiba had gotten fed up and kicked him in the shin, which had led to a punch to Kaiba’s shoulder, three dropped phone calls, and Joey having to make a second cup of soup since the first ended up as a puddle on Kaiba’s rug.

Now, Kaiba looked vaguely smug as he took a spitefully long draught of untested boiling broth. Apparently Kaiba had forgotten that he was the one who had neurotically insisted on Joey vetting his food in the first place. But _let_ Kaiba think it was his victory – Joey knew better.

Joey turned to go, but Kaiba caught his sleeve and jerked him back harshly.

He had already let go, by the time Joey turned around questioningly. But Kaiba’s meaningful glare held him in place.

“I’m putting you on hold,” he said. And it took Joey a minute to realise Kaiba was still talking into the phone. “Something’s come up.”

That was all the warning he gave before slamming the receiver down.

Joey winced.

“What is it? This isn’t seriously about poisoned broth or whatever, is it?”

Kaiba managed to catch himself in the middle of rolling his eyes.

“I’ve heard from Satou,” Kaiba began, “that you’ve made a name for yourself around the building as a copy machine technician.”

Joey blinked. He raised a finger and scratched tentatively at his chin.

“Heh~ Yeah?” He smiled. “I guess I have.”

Despite Keiko’s protests, Mami had called up to Satou-chan the other day, and informed her that Joey had been running late because he had fixed their copy machine’s malfunction. When a printer on the twelfth floor went on the fritz, she asked Joey if he wouldn’t like to be sent down to fix it. Since then, it seemed as if every piece of office machinery in the entire building had gone on strike. There’d been a steady stream of requests for Joey to see to fixing fax machines and space heaters and radio transmitters. But mostly copy machines. Always copy machines.

Kaiba frowned. “You know we have people on staff for that,” he said sternly.

“Ya do?”

Kaiba nodded. “Kaiba Corp Technology Support specialises in software, but most of them should be equipped to handle basic hardware issues, such as common printer-copier malfunctions.” He crossed his legs in his armchair. “And, in addition, there’s a small department within out building maintenance that would normally be seeing to these issues.”

Joey hummed noncommittally.

“So you have people for this kind of thing but, for some reason, I’m the one getting stuck with the work…” Joey smiled. “Ya know what that means?”

Kaiba’s eyes were blank. He didn’t bother to guess.

Joey puffed his chest.

“They’re just not as good as I am. I must be doing something they’re not. Got the magic copy machine fixing touch.” Joey flexed his fingers pointedly. He repeated himself. “They’re just not as good as me.”

Kaiba snorted derisively. But the right edge of his mouth curled up, before the phone rang and Kaiba’s attention went with it.

Kaiba waved Joey out of the office and, perhaps unwisely, it got left at that.

==

“Alright!” Joey cheered. His Zoid ‘M’ had taken out Mokuba’s final chess piece, a defenceless Torigun. And he still had an Armoursaurus and Toppo on his side of the field. “That’ll teach you to mess with me! What’s the score, Tsukuda?!”

Tsukuda scratched another line onto the notepad they’d set aside, and then went back to the magazine he was reading.

“It’s twelve-to-one in my favour.” Mokuba rolled his eyes. He gathered the monster capsules into his hand and threw them in the felt drawstring bag he storied them in. He drew the drawstring shut, and shook the contents of the bag, so the plastic capsules rattled loudly together. “And you only won because you got lucky and drew a bunch of five star monsters.”

“And, Toppo!” Joey protested. Mokuba had finished shuffling the pieces. He held the open bag out to Joey who drew another five capsules. “And, anyhow,” Joey continued – he grinned as chose his final game piece, and spun it in his hand – “Luck’s part of skill, too. So, don’t give me that it wasn’t my win!”

Joey’s draw for the next game was much less fortuitous. Cobrada was his only high level piece, and the rest of the hand was made up of one and two star monsters - Mogley, Momono, Pear Head, and Flower Man. Mokuba took the time to show off, and herded Joey’s pieces into formation so he could hit them all at once with a combo strike.

“I swear you’re cheatin’” Joey grumbled, as he surrendered his monsters.

Mokuba’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed the monster capsules up and slammed the handful of plastic down on the diner’s table. “And I swear I’ve never met anybody so incompetent at strategizing.” He huffed angrily, before throwing the drawstring bag in his briefcase and slapping the playing field closed.

Mokuba brushed his hair out of his eye, crossed his legs, and turned in his seat, so he was glaring diagonally across at the wall behind Joey.

And, _shit_ , maybe that had been the wrong thing to say. God knew the Kaiba brothers could take their games seriously, and Capsule Monster Chess was Mokuba’s favourite. At one point he might have cheated playing his favourite game, but Mokuba had come a long way since their first couple of meetings.

Joey turned to Tsukuda for support, without success. Tsukuda still had his nose in his magazine – some hobby magazine about Tenkara fishing or something. Apparently protecting Mokuba-bocchan’s feelings was not something covered in the Kaiba Corp security guard policy.

The silence dragged out. Mokuba still had his nose turned up, offended. And Joey felt himself more and more irritated with Tsukuda. The least the guy could do was say something to break the tension.

Joey tried to catch Tsukuda’s attention with a couple of nervous hand gestures. When that didn’t work, he tried to nudge at Tsukuda’s leg under the table.

When this didn’t work he kicked.

Tsukuda, for all he was unemotive, seemed capable of kicking back. Joey felt the sole of a shoe ram into his shin, and he jumped in his seat, banging his knee on the underside of the table.

“Son of a bitch-!” Joey declared angrily.

“What are you doing?” Mokuba asked.

Mokuba was looking at Joey. He didn’t sound curious or indulgent, per se, but he was back to his usual self.

“Ah, nothin’,” Joey whined.

Tsukuda was still flipping pages in his magazine, carelessly.

Joey remembered how easy it had been to rile up the Kaiba Corp guards back during Battle City – how quick they jumped to the defence.

“Yanno, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to,” he sulked.

Joey pulled his hand down and rubbed at his knee.

“Whatever happened to that guy?” he asked.

When Mokuba looked at him, appraisingly, Joey hurried to clarify. He leaned forward in his seat and gestured wildly.

“You know, that guard guy? The one that did all the announcing for Battle City – Ieda, or whatever.” Joey lifted his thumb and index finger and ran them over the razor burn on his upper lip. “Funny little moustache guy.”

This, of all things, finally got Tsukuda to crack a smile and let out an amused huff of laughter.

Mokuba, who had been glaring at Joey, turned his gaze on Tsukuda to silence him, before directing his attention back.

“You mean _Isono_?” Mokuba asked, frowning.

Joey shrugged. “Yeah, I think that was his name~”

“You know,” Mokuba bit out, “ _that guy_ was the guy who looked after you when you were passed out without a soul in America.”

Joey grunted.

_Yeah. But he was also the guy that wouldn’t shut up about the official Duel Monsters rules, when everyone was dropping like flies during Battle City._

_He would have left me and Mai to die,_ Joey thought uncharitably, _to say nothing of Ryou or Rishid_. But there was no denying Isono had had Mokuba’s and Kaiba’s wellbeing in his heart. Joey could remember as clearly as yesterday, the man’s voice blazing over the blimp’s loudspeaker, as Joey blistered his fingers prying open the doors, frantically searching for the missing siblings before the end of Alcatraz.

“So, whatever happened to him?” Joey asked. He leaned back in his seat. Hopefully it was nothing bad. It was hard to imagine the guy leaving Kaiba Corp for any other reason.

Mokuba shrugged. “He got married.”

He shrugged again, when Joey looked over, questioningly.

“This was a year ago. He met some woman online – five years his junior, but working pretty high up in security at this legal firm in Fukuoka. Apparently they hit it off.” Mokuba fiddled with the sleeve of his school uniform. He was wearing golden cufflinks, against the navy blazer, and their shine smudged under his thumb.

“So one day,” Mokuba continued, “he came into the office, dropped off his notice, and said he was going to move out there in a month or so to be with her.” Mokuba grinned wryly. “At least that’s how he tells the story…

“My brother says he walked into the office one day, and betrayed the Kaiba name.”

Joey wondered if he was imagining the way Tsukuda’s brow rustled.

Mokuba rolled his eyes. “I kept trying to tell him we should set Isono up at the Fukuoka branch of Kaiba Corp. He already knows all the ins-and-outs, and has an extensive familiarity with Gouzaburou’s dossiers. He speaks German. And we’ve known him for-” Mokuba huffed disbelievingly, “-twelve years. But…” Mokuba waved his hand dismissively. “You know how my brother is.” He rolled his eyes again. “Forget job referrals or references. Nii-sama was convinced Isono’s wife was trying to honeypot us. Just imagine having to talk him out of raiding her firm’s digital databases five times a day.”

Joey snorted. It was hard to imagine anyone talking Kaiba out of anything. But, then again, they all had tried, at some time or another.

“Anyhow,” Mokuba waved a dismissive hand, “apparently Isono’s working as a security guard – the night shift at some public facility. And looking after his newborn during the day.” Mokuba shrugged. “It’s a job way under his skill level, but he says he’s happy.”

Mokuba seemed lost in thought for a moment, but then he smiled at Joey, full of mirth.

“So, like, the polar opposite of your situation.”

Joey laughed wryly, just to feel the laughter on his tongue. “Hey, I’m plenty qualified to babysit you and make sure your brother eats his vegetables.”

Mokuba laughed too. “I see, but no arguments about how happy you aren’t,” he noted. He rested his elbow on the table and smiled knowingly at Joey.

The sleeve of Mokuba’s shirt slipped down, and Joey caught sight of an expensive silver watch, and a sliver of beige skin. He glanced to Mokuba’s smirking face, and his forearm.

“I bet he felt bad,” Joey said, without really thinking. “Isono, I mean. I bet he felt bad he wasn’t around to protect you guys in February.”

Mokuba frowned.

Tsukuda’s fingers paused noticeably, in the middle of flipping past the next page in his magazine.

Mokuba’s voice returned. “Who knows if he even would have been on shift that day?” he said. “It’s useless to feel bad about things you can’t change.”

Joey held back a sigh. “Yeah, but I bet he felt bad anyhow.” Joey’s eyes panned down. “Even if you can’t do anything, it doesn’t stop you from feeling bad.”

Mokuba said nothing. He leaned an elbow on the table and laid his chin against his hand. The gesture was uneven. His eyes were closed.

A waitress, carrying a coffee pot, passed right by them.

“Hey, Mokie, you know what?” Joey interrupted. “You should let me see your scar.”

Mokuba’s eyes peeled open. His brow wrinkled in incomprehension. He scowled, as a second parse of Joey’s words failed to produce different results.

“ _What_?” he snarled.

“Yeah, c’mon.” Joey beckoned Mokuba forward with his hand, coaxing. “Lemme see the scar, from where the bullet grazed your arm.”

Joey patted his right arm, mirroring Mokuba’s left. When this prompted no response, he wiggled his eyebrows and grinned lasciviously.

“I bet it makes you look tough and manly. I bet all the girls love it.”

“Hn.” Mokuba snorted and crossed his arms. “3D girls are nothing but trouble,” he said darkly.

Joey couldn’t keep from barking out a laugh. “Whatever you say, Mokie. But when you’re off at Harvard or whatever chatting up some blue-eyed babe, it won’t hurt to have something like that – _up your sleeve_ – eh?”

Joey giggled to himself as Mokuba’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

Tsukuda’s face was buried a little too deep in his magazine. Joey wondered if he had cracked a smile.

Mokuba’s eyes were closed in contemplation, though. Arms still crossed, Mokuba’s fingers wiggled and reached out in circular patterns, trying to grab something that wasn’t there. And, just when Joey was about to concede – it really wasn’t funny, and it wasn’t as if Mokuba had to show him anything – Mokuba sighed and reached down to fumble with the cuff of his jacket.

He unhooked the gold cufflink and set it firmly on the table, so it clacked loudly against the surface. There was an embossed letter ‘K’ on the face.

Mokuba rolled up his sleeve, revealing the light blue and white striped interior of his school blazer. He continued rolling the sleeve, until it was pulled all the way up to his shoulder. Mokuba’s arm was unnaturally pale, offset against the tan of his facial complexion. And his limbs were long and slender, just like his brother’s.

Mokuba slouched forward over the table, jutting his shoulder forward. He laid his left arm out over the countertop, and swivelled his upper arm, to reveal its underside. And to reveal the scar that rested there.

Joey examined it. The angle of entry, the rosy red scar tissue-

“It didn’t hit the bone,” Mokuba said, as if he’d read the question somewhere off Joey’s face.

Joey nodded. His eyes held, panned downwards. He felt incapable of meeting Mokuba’s expression for a minute.

He reached forward with a tentative hand, paused, and then continued when Mokuba didn’t pull away. He brushed his middle finger, slightly against the hair and skin of Mokuba’s forearm and, when Mokuba still did not pull back, he decided to press forward.

He curled his index finger into the scar.

 _Best surgeons in the country,_ he remembered.

The bullet had hit muscle alone – deep and red and healthy – and the muscle had twisted and bundled and knotted into the wound, and atrophied around it. Left behind was a delicately sewn crevice, and the tough edge of a bulge that gave too quickly when Joey pressed into it.

He swiped his finger more softly over the unblemished portion of Mokuba’s arm, in apology, and pulled back.

When he’d sat up completely, and leaned back against the cushion of the restaurant booth, Mokuba finally spoke again.

“Are you finished?” he said impatiently. And Joey finally looked up to meet his eyes again.

“Yea-” he nodded.

Mokuba looked bored.

“Good,” Mokuba said, rolling down his sleeve and reaching for his Kaiba Corp cufflink. “Never ask to see it again.”

==

The entrance to Kaiba Land was a sight to behold – picture perfect right from the beginning. The walkway up the park was long and wide, tiled in shocking blues and whites, and lined with maples that had already flushed green for the spring. Families and young couples both made their way up to the ticket booths, and the park itself, where the giant lettered arch curved above them – _K-A-I-B-A ._ The monorail, too, sped over the park entrance, hovering above the gift shop and photo booths, and the children who pointed eagerly up to it, in anticipation of their trip around the park to the Battle City blimps, and the Blue Eyes Coaster, and the Free Fall Tower, and the Kaibaman Adventure MiniAttraction.

But, by far, the most iconic part of the Kaiba Land entrance was the opening plaza, where everyone gathered together to take group photos and selfies, before scattering around the park. The centre of the plaza sported a large celestial globe, black and fierce with twinkling decans and constellations, around which three Blue Eyes White Dragons circled, keeping time. Photos of happy families (or otherwise Kaiba himself) standing in front of the globe, littered the travel guides and pamphlets freely distributed by Domino’s tourism board. How Kaiba had ensured his theme park such premium advertising, for only a pittance of cost directed back to the city, was the subject of scrutiny by his peers – but that was beside the point. Nobody could argue the entrance to Kaiba Land was stunning, both in its beauty and in its promise for a wonderful and exciting day.

Joey didn’t get to see it, though.

He was hustled up the private road that circled around the back of the park, along the coast. The road was long and winding, with security guards to check people’s Kaiba Corp IDs on the way in. The road was not marked and, although it was not particularly difficult to find, it remained obscure in the sense that most of the people who made their way towards Kaiba Land never went in search of it.

The service entrance to Kaiba Land was all dull grey and cold cement, security monitors and lockers and internal intelligence, but the surprising part was the way it existed, completely covert, around Japan’s largest amusement park. The average park goer would never realise that the high neo-Gothic walls that marked the internal boundary of the park were only a façade – one that covered a network of passages and roads and secret doors, and enabled employees to quickly travel the perimeter of the premises to appear wherever they were needed in the park itself – up to and including the Kaiba Land office building, that seemed to fade into the background behind the elite Kaiba Land Hotel.

 _The second you walked into Kaiba’s amusement park,_ Joey thought uncharitably, _Kaiba had you completely surrounded._

But there was also a kind of pride, Joey allowed, to getting to see Kaiba Land from the inside-out. And it was all because, in what could only be described as a cosmic fit of absurdity, forty different copy machines, from the office building to the photo booths to the ticket stands, had all stopped working at once.

Satou-chan had gaped when she received the phone call, and after the small second it took to collect herself, asked if Joey would like to be sent out on assignment to Kaiba Land to help cover some of the repairs.

_Hell, yeah!_

“I’m surprised they sent somebody all the way from the main office.” The woman’s heels clicked as she leaned back against the counter, on the inside of the ticketing booth.

Joey slammed the paper tray in place. He rubbed at the ink on his chin, as he stretched out his back. The scrutiny had been a bit of a pain at first, but Joey was too pumped to let it get to him now. Between Joey and the on-site staff, all the machines at the Kaiba Corp office building had been repaired, and Joey had finally made it into the park itself. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the cheer of the visiting crowd was infections, even from the inside of the ticket booths.

Not to mention, if scrutiny was in the cards, it wasn’t half bad so long as a beautiful thing like the on-site manager was the one doing the scrutinising.

“Whelp,” Joey grinned. He jutted his chin up arrogantly. “Ya know how it is – the guys at Kaiba Corp ain’t gonna mess around with the small guns. If there’s a problem, no point in sending anyone other than the best of the best. And I’m just the man for the job!” he crowed. “There’s not a thing that I can’t fix!”

He puffed his chest and swung around, hands on his hips. His elbow knocked over a stalk of papers.

“Aw, _shit_ -” he cursed under his breath. He turned around and bent over to retrieve the papers. It seemed to be a spreadsheet of prices.

The manager laughed. “You sure this isn’t a surprise inspection?” she said.

Joey snorted mirthfully, still engrossed in the spreadsheets. “Nah~” he said. “Even if I felt like snooping around for Kaiba, I wouldn’t even know what to look for.”

He stood up and pointed at the list.

“Oi, Nee-san,” he prodded, “what’s this for?”

The manager walked up to him. She leaned to look over his shoulder. Her long hair brushed against his collarbone.

“We have special pricing the first Monday of every month,” she said. “It’s a special event day for Kaiba Land. We have arrangements with orphanages and low-income schools in Domino and the surrounding area, and bus kids in. Admission is free, but food and souvenirs are only discounted.” The manager made a face. “It’s for a good cause, I suppose, but everyone hates it. You’ve never met such a rude and sullen bunch of children.”

Joey snorted. “Yeah, I’ll bet,” he laughed.

He shuffled the papers in his hands and set them on top of the copy machine.

“Hey? You know if they bus in kids from Rintama High?” he asked.

The manager looked confused.

“Heh, heh~ Never mind,” Joey headed her off. “Dumb question.”

_Buncha brats since the day they were born. There was nothing for ‘em._

Joey’s forehead tensed. Then released.

The manager leaned closer. She jostled Joey’s shoulder with her own.

“Hey, you said you could fix anything, right?” she asked. “And you’ve got the go-ahead? You’re answering to the Kaiba Corp heads directly, right?”

“Uh,” Joey blushed. His shoulder seemed to tingle where the manager had touched him, burnt from the contact. “Yea-” he huffed. “Whatcha got? A monitor? A fax machine?” He slapped his hands on his hips and puffed his chest. “Joey Wheeler’s got it taken care of! Bring it on!”

==

Joey flipped the Kaiba Corp business card in his hand – the same one Kaiba had handed him over a month earlier. He looked carefully at the characters in Kaiba’s name. Every stroke seemed to be in order, like something out of a kanji workbook.

But then Joey refocussed. He looked past the characters to the Kaiba Corp customer service number. He plugged the numbers into his phone one-by-one.

He covered his free ear with his hand, to drown out the sounds from the middle of Kaiba Land. The chatter and cheer seemed to echo under his palm though, into his ear.

A feminine voice answered the phone.

“You’ve reached the service number for the main Kaiba Corp offices, located at xxxx Front Street in Downtown Domino. How may I assist you?”

Joey cleared his throat. “‘Ey, this is a Joey Wheeler. Can you patch me up to Satou-chan in the CEO’s office?”

This didn’t prompt a response from the call centre representative.

“Satou Kumiko-chan,” Joey elaborated. “She works as Kaiba’s personal secretary. Yea- I need to talk to her.” He scratched at his elbow, before resting it back down on the armrest on the Kaiba Corp bench. “She gave me her extension. I just keep forgetting it… Listen, just look up the name Joey Wheeler. I know it’s in the system.”

There was a long pause, but finally the rep answered.

“Alright,” she said unsurely. “I’m forwarding you now.”

…

“Kaiba Corp CEO Office,” Satou-chan picked up.

Joey snorted, as a Kaibaman mascot walked by. He posed dramatically for a couple of kids, pointing eagerly in his direction, and flashed a winning smile before running off. The kids pursued. Joey giggled.

Satou-chan’s silence was chilly.

“No! I wasn’t laughing at you!” Joey reassured, struck suddenly with worry. “It’s just- Too much goin’ on over here.” He paused awkwardly. “Can you patch my call through to Kaiba? I wasn’t sure the call centre people would let me through to him directly.”

Satou-chan herself made a sound that was suspiciously like a chuckle. “No problem, Wheeler-san.”

Joey smiled to himself.

As soon as he heard the click of the phone receiver, he spoke.

“Oi, Kaiba!” he greeted loudly. “It’s Joey.”

“Hn.” Kaiba grunted curtly into the line in greeting.

“Yeah, hey – thing is we ran into a bit of a problem running errands at Kaiba Land.” Joey scratched his head self-consciously. “I’m not really sure who should be looking after this, but…”

He faltered. Lacking any indication from Kaiba on the other end of the line, he cut himself, and his doubts, off short.

“Well, the thing is I’ve got some stuff to look after and it’s taking longer than I thought,” Joey continued. “So I don’t see how I’ll be back in time to go get Mokuba today.”

“Hn,” Kaiba said inscrutably.

A group of kids holding balloon animals ran past the bench. Past like a shot.

“Hey!” Joey said, as if the idea had just come to him. “You know, you should go pick up Mokuba yourself.” Joey beamed into the phone. “You know, he doesn’t say it, but I’m pretty sure he misses you. He asks after you like it’s nobody’s business. You should get some quality sibling bonding time in, since I’ll be off doing other things.”

“Hn,” Kaiba grunted unenthusiastically.

Joey snorted and allowed himself a wry smile.

“You know, _I’m_ pretty sure _you_ miss him too-” he prodded smugly.

“If that’s _all_ you have to report, Wheeler,” Kaiba cut him off. “I have better things to do than listen to your yapping.”

The line cut out before Joey could reply.

His irritation at Kaiba cutting his call simmered, but it was quickly drowned out by his victory. _Yes_ – he’d take care of things here at Kaiba Land, and Kaiba would take care of Mokuba, just like a big brother should. And Joey had a lot to do and a lot to look after… just as soon as he recruited some help.

The next phone call was much easier to make. Much more direct.

“What’s up?” was the short greeting.

“Hey, pack up your fuckin’ tool bag and get over here, Honda,” Joey said. “I need your help with something.”

“What?”

“Nah, nah~” Joey protested. “Explanations later. I’m on a time limit here – damn, I gotta explain this all to that lady – but, yea- I’m at Kaiba Land and I needed you over here five minutes ago.”

“Once more. Joey – What?! The?! Hell?!” Honda growled. He actually sounded angry this time. “What are you even doing at Kaiba Land?!”

“Um,” Joey blinked, surprised at the amount of resistance he was getting. He reclined, slouching back in his seat. “I got sent over here to do repairs on a couple of things, and it kind of expanded out beyond my area of expertise. So I need you to come to Kaiba Land and help me fix something,” he explained.

“Joey!” Honda sighed. “It’s the middle of my work day. I’ve got two Suzukis, a Toyota, and a bike I’ve got to get up and running by tomorrow morning and, dude, it’s _your_ job. Fix whatever it is yourself!”

“Oi!” Joey protested. He covered the mouthpiece of his phone with his hands, and narrowed his eyes furtively. “Listen, Honda. You gotta help me!” he pleaded. “It’s my reputation on the line here” He felt his face fall. “These guys all think I’m some kind of mechanical wizard or somethin’,” he rushed out. “But I’m a fraud! The only reason I know so much about copy machines is because Youko-chan had one that kept breaking down at the warehouse. That’s it! I can’t believe I successfully bullshitted my way through everything else Satou-chan threw at me!”

“Dude, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Honda sighed. “What is it that’s broken down anyhow?” he asked. “Maybe I can talk you through the worst of it.”

“It’s a roller coaster.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, Joey, I’ll talk to you some other time,” Honda scoffed.

“Don’t you dare abandon me!” Joey protested, leaning heavily into the phone. “You can do this. I know you can, Honda! Roller coasters are basically like cars anyhow, right?” he asked. “They have a motor or whatever... And they move forward!”

“Jou,” Honda said. “If working for Kaiba wasn’t a sure sign of you having gone crazy, this cinches it.”

“C’mon,” Joey said knowingly, “I know you’ve always wanted to fiddle around with the inside of a roller coaster~”

Honda didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t hang up at least.

“And, you know, I bet you’ll get free admission into the park afterwards. You can go on _all_ the rides~” Joey persuaded.

…

“Aw, you wouldn’t leave your pal Joey Wheeler all alone at Kaiba Land, would you~?” Joey pouted.

“Ah, fuck you,” Honda said, exasperated. “I’m packing up right now. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“‘Eh, heh~” Joey snickered. “I knew you liked me.”

“You’re an asshole. See you soon.”

The phone beeped as the call cut out. Joey sighed. He stretched in his seat, and leaned back. He managed to get a spot, under the shade of a green maple. He was located near the centre of the part, near the food court, and could smell grilled yakitori and fried noodles.

He should go explain himself to the manager, and get things set up so Honda would be allowed access to the park. A bigger part of him wanted to get up and run around Kaiba Land, and indulge in the junk food and rides and attractions.

The biggest part of him wanted to close his eyes and stop thinking and not do anything.

Just as his mind had almost cleared, his phone chimed. He blinked his eyes open, and pulled the ringing phone up to his face, to read the name off the screen.

He flipped it open immediately.

“Mai!” Joey answered brightly.

His joy was premature.

He should have known, given the time, or the place, or… _he wasn’t sure_. But, _somehow_ , he should have known.

But, even without prior knowledge, there was something about the static on the other end of the line. There was something about the elongated silence, and then the tiny, quiet, quivering whisper that so rarely defined Mai’s voice.

“Hi, Joey. Sorry, but- It’s late here… Do you have a minute?” she asked smally.

From cities and countries and continents away, Joey could taste the tears on Mai’s cheeks. Although she would never let them crack through her voice.

Joey held in his own voice for a moment. He resisted the urge to slam his phone shut and run. He tried to stop the burgeoning questions in his head.

_Why did Mai keep calling him for this? Why did she call him for this, when she repeatedly told him there was nothing for him to say?_

You see – there was no worse feeling in the world than your girl calling you, upset and in tears, and knowing, beyond all convictions and doubts, that there was really nothing you could do.

==

_“…”_

_“…”_

_Joey let out a sigh._

_“So, uh, what time is it there?”_

_Mai was quiet for a good long moment._

_“…Five am.”_

_Joey laughed anxiously._

_“Well, that’s not really late, Mai, so much as it’s early, huh?”_

_“…”_

_Joey fidgeted with his phone._

_“…Bad dreams?” he asked._

_Mai inhaled deeply before answering._

_“Nightmares.”_

_“Oh,” Joey said._

_“…”_

_“…”_

_“Did you wanna-?”_

_“_ Joey _!” Mai said sharply._

_Joey clutched the phone for a second_

_“Y- Yea-?” he asked unsurely._

_“You don’t have to say anything. Just breathe.”_

_“Er, um-” Joey floundered. He was suddenly very aware of the air trapped in his lungs. “How should I breathe?” he asked, blue in the face._

_Mai made a sound like she was choking._

_“_ Deep- _ly.” She seemed frustrated._

_“Oh, uh-”_

_Joey inhaled deeply. He held his breathe for six seconds, before exhaling. He let his lungs stay, collapsed, for another six seconds, before inhaling again._

_Mai synched her breathing with his. Joey closed his eyes, and watched her purse her lips, and exhale with the slightest hint of a whistle. He inhaled again, and the breaths seemed to swell in his hand. The skin on his palm pressed against the wooden armrest at the end of the Kaiba Land bench._

_If Mai was here, he would have pressed his hand against her shoulder, and pulled her sideways against his chest. When he inhaled, his skin would expand against her arm. And when she exhaled smeared purple would peel off her lips._

_He didn’t know what to do in person, either. No matter how many times they ran through these patterns. Patterned breathes. Draw, sacrifice, summon, discard._

_He was counting down, despite himself. Mai stopped him after the twenty-forth breath._

_“Thank you, Joey,” she said. Her voice was small, but it didn’t sound as strained. “I don’t know what I’d-” She cut herself off._

_“Er-”_

_Joey couldn’t bring himself to say ‘you’re welcome’._

_“…”_

_“…”_

_“Do your eyes still hurt?” Joey blurted out._

_He was cursing his own lack of self-restraint, when Mai answered, softly._

_“Only when I’m asleep. And only then sometimes,” she said. “Mostly, I just-_

_Mai whispered._

_“Even when I’m awake, sometimes I’m afraid he was right. Sometimes I think I’m going to be alone forever.”_

_Joey didn’t realise his own breathing had quickened in the meantime. Suddenly it was like he was running a hundred miles an hour, except he couldn’t move from his seat on the bench._

_“Joey, it’s okay,” Mai soothed. “I’m okay, Joey. We’re okay – Breathe.”_

==

He’d had to text Honda instructions about how to get into the park, and arrange for a guest pass for him. To be honest, it was all coming together much more smoothly than Joey thought it would. Nobody seemed to doubt the authority with which Honda was allowed entrance. And the on-site manager seemed eager to work with him, and had gotten a head start in closing off the Blue Eyes Coaster for repairs. Joey found himself standing before the control panel for the ride, equipped with a utility crane, a bunch of complicated looking tools and equipment, and absolutely zero ideas.

“Your associate’s here!”

Honda waved curtly to Joey, as the manager let him through to the ground level of the coaster platform. He jogged up to Joey carrying a duffel bag, presumably full of tools. He smiled hesitantly, despite any of his early protests.

“Beautiful sunny day at Kaiba Land.” Honda whistled. “Bet it’s more crowded on Sunday, though.”

“Yea-” Joey agreed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and winced harshly. The sun seemed to hit him right in the eye. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Honda seemed to notice something was wrong immediately.

“Hey? You okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” Joey reassured.

Honda gave him a knowing look.

“No, you’re not. C’mon, man.”

Joey huffed. It took him precisely five seconds to break.

“It’s just-” Joey scrambled for words. He groaned. “Mai just called me.”

“Mai?” Honda repeated. He raised an eyebrow. “Malik?”

Joey puffed his cheeks. He hunched his shoulders.

“Yeah, it was about Malik.”

For a second Honda just stood there with him. And it was comfortable.

Until Honda ruined it by having nothing good to say.

Honda sucked in a breath through his teeth. “That’s rough, man. Sorry.” He paused. “You know, if you’re having a rough time-”

“Hey, I’m fine,” Joey protested. He forced a smile. “Never been better!” he pumped his arm up. “We got a roller coaster to fix, right?”

Honda’s lip wiggled. He looked sceptically at Joey, before looking sceptically up at the roller coaster.

“If you say so,” he shrugged. “What’d they say was wrong with it?”

“Something about the lifty part as it goes up the slope,” Joey said, pointing at the track. “Apparently it’s been stalling or something. And then there’s something with the break, but she said it was maybe something with the electric. I dunno.”

“Well, uh…” Honda stalled. “You’re gonna have me take a look, or-?”

The problem was that Honda was probably the one best suited for both examining the roller coaster track, and operating the utility crane.

“Hey! Watch the hair!” Honda shouted. He ducked as the compartment he was standing in lurched up at the underside of the roller coaster tracks. He narrowly missed knocking his head on the rail.

“Oops~ Sorry!” Joey called up at him, from where he was trying to adjust the position of the crane, and the vehicle it was attached to.

“Yeah, you’re sorry,” Honda said sarcastically. “Lousy driver. Just sign up for classes and get your license already.”

Joey flipped him the bird. He pulled up the break and fiddled with the crane’s controls, so Honda could examine the track. He tapped his fingers impatiently against the control panel as Honda squinted at the track, and felt at the ridges in the track’s lift hill with his hands.

Honda examined it intently, eyes narrowed.

“I-” he began. “I have no idea, Joey.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Joey protested.

“What am I even looking for?” Honda said. “This part of the lift is different,” he said, indicating the beginning section with a pointed finger, “but I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be like that or not. And, if it’s _not_ ,” he put in, “I don’t know how I’m expected to fix it without replacing the metal.”

“Boo!” Joey shouted.

“Shut it!” Honda protested, leaning over the compartment to glare down at Joey from above. “At least go and check the coaster’s control panel! See if you can find a manufacturer’s logo!”

“Agh! Fine. Fine!” Joey shouted back up. He leapt up from his seat in the utility crane’s vehicle, and headed for the control booth.

The roller coaster’s control panel was expansive, sequestered inside a roofed enclosure in the centre of the coaster’s field. Joey drew his hand across the metallic cover, between the buttons. Honda was the expert, so he forced himself to search for a logo, and ignore the rest. When he found one, he walked back outside and shouted up to Honda.

“The only one I see is KC. Kaiba Corp, with the fucking dragon in the background.”

“Seriously?!” Honda shouted back down. “Can you look again? I’m looking for something like _‘S &S_’.”

“I already told you-!” Joey started.

“Just look again!” Honda insisted.

Joey grumbled, but he headed back to the control booth.

A second examination revealed no more than the first.

“ _I_ told _you it’s just KC_!” he insisted, upon re-exiting the booth.

Honda seemed to be adjusting part of the lift with his tools – or otherwise just wailing on it with the most readily available blunt object – but he stopped when Joey reappeared. He groaned. “I called up some guys before I came here,” he explained. “Sansei and TOGO are the big names in roller coaster manufacturing. I got a bit of info, but it doesn’t look like it’ll be worth much. If Kaiba Corp’s branded its own product here…” Honda pulled at the collar of his shirt, frustrated. “Do we even have blueprints and a layout for this thing?” he asked.

“If I had ‘em, I’d have shown ‘em to you already,” Joey said.

Honda kicked at the interior of his compartment, atop the utility crane.

“Listen, Joey!” he insisted. “ _I don’t know what you want me to_ do _!_ ” he shouted down. “Whatever’s going on here’s bigger than a two man project. And that’s two men who actually _have a clue about how roller coasters are put together_. They’re not _cars,_ okay?!”

Joey clicked his tongue.

_He couldn’t be this useless._

“You don’t even know what’s wrong with the thing!” Honda said. “Why don’t you have more info on what kind of problem the manger was having with it?!”

“Hey, I’m getting to it!” Joey protested. He mulled it over, scratching on the top of his head. “Why don’t we run the thing?” he asked. “It’s apparently only a minor issue, if the thing was running kids around the track just this morning.”

This idea cheered him.

“Yea-” he grinned. “We’ll test it out and keep an eye out for what’s wrong!”

“Joey!” Honda protested. “Just _ask_ the woman! The thing might not even run the same if it’s not weighted.”

Honda was trapped atop the crane, though. And Joey was headed straight for the control booth. He’d figure this out. He’d figure everything out.

And, just his luck, he managed to figure out which controls to switch to run the Blue Eyes Coaster on his first try.

==

Joey’s shoulders were hunched. But it was nothing compared to the way Honda walked dejected from the Kaiba Land exit. His head lolled downwards, and his duffle bag rattled as it bounced off his shoulder.

This went on a little bit longer, until Joey couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Hey, quit sulking at me,” he said.

Honda’s demeanour didn’t change.

Joey grinned widely. He laced his hands behind his head. “It’s not so bad, is it?! What’s a lifetime ban from Kaiba Land?”

It was practically nothing, especially after the way Honda had shaken in his seat at the Kaiba Land office. There had been a lot of yelling. And commotion. And sitting in terrified silence under the watchful eyes of some very large and angry security guards. Until, amazingly, the order came through to toss both of them out of the park, no further stipulations.

They hadn’t threatened legal action against Honda either. At least, not yet, they hadn’t… Joey would sort it out if it became a problem.

_Honda had breathed a sigh of relief, as the Blue Eyes train passed the first lift hill with only a slight delay._

_There weren’t any words to describe the rest of it – watching the Blue Eyes figurehead at the front of the train – jaws bared angrily – as the entire train dislodged from the track and rocketed towards the ground. The thud it had made when it hit the dirt was deafening. Nobody had any idea how it had happened – least of all Joey._

“You’re not the one who has to go explain this mess to Kaiba~” Joey reminded Honda.

If anything, this pronouncement seemed to weigh down even heavier on Honda’s shoulders.

Joey frowned. He bristled.

“I said to stop sulking!” he shouted. “It’s not as if you’ve got anyone to take to Kaiba Land!” he reminded. “Since Serenity dumped your ass!”

This, finally, made Honda turn against him.

Honda stopped in his tracks and set his duffel on the ground between them, like a barrier.

Joey’s arms dropped from behind his head.

“Dude, can you fuck _off_?!” Honda asked. “Listen, I know you don’t wanna hear it, but-”

He trailed off.

“But _what_?” Joey growled tersely.

“Aw, forget it man,” Honda said. “Way to miss the fucking point! Did you ever consider maybe I’m ‘sulking around’ for your sake?!”

Joey frowned.

“I’m the one that ran here in the middle of my work day because, _I don’t know_ ,” Honda spat sarcastically, “maybe I heard you were at Kaiba Land by yourself and got worried.”

Joey’s face flushed.

“What the hell do you have to be worried about?!” Joey protested.

“There’s no imbetween for you, is there?!” Honda shouted. “It’s either Kaiba and Mokuba deserve any cruel fate Pegasus decides to dish out, or you’re gonna smother them until you walk right back into a potential death trap!”

Joey blinked. Blank. His face relaxed, then his mouth contorted into a half grin.

“Huh?” He snickered at Honda.

“You know what-!” Honda frowned. “You go have fun explaining things to Kaiba. Just don’t expect me to hop on my motorbike first thing the next time you call with some stupid Kaiba problem.” Honda crossed his arms over his chest. “And know that I wouldn’t be dumb enough to take your sister, or anyone, on a date to Kaiba Land. I had enough of the place the first time I got sent here to babysit Jouji.”

Honda kicked the ground with his shoe. He bent down to pick up his duffel bag.

“So I’m sure as hell not upset about a lifetime ban,” he put out, before he walked off across the street. Joey guessed he was heading to where his bike was parked.

Joey watched Honda stalk away, feet hitting hard on the cement.

Joey cupped his mouth with his hands.

“You gonna give me a ride to the metro stop or not?!” he yelled at Honda’s heels.

==

Honda did not only give him a ride to the metro stop. He deposited Joey right at the Kaiba Corp entrance.

“Kaiba-sama said you were to go straight into his office as soon as you arrived,” Satou-chan explained, after the impossibly long and roundabout trip up the elevators.

Joey tried not to hesitate, but his feet stalled.

“Good luck,” Satou-chan said. And there was an edge of firmness and confidence in her voice that Joey couldn’t quite get the feel for.

Joey sighed, but he walked forward. He slid his keycard against Kaiba’s door, and pressed it open.

Kaiba was pacing across the office. His shoes shuffled loudly, as he dragged his feet against the carpet.

Joey opened his mouth, fought for some apology for what had happened earlier at Kaiba Land, but Kaiba turned abruptly as he reached the far end of the office. With Kaiba facing the other direction, Joey could see the phone he had pressed up to his right ear.

Kaiba’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Joey, and it was enough to silence the budding words in Joey’s throat. Joey clamped his mouth shut, as Kaiba pointed imperiously to the divan against the right wall of the office.

Joey collapsed on the divan.

“Alright, explain to me again-” Kaiba said. It was said so imperiously, Joey had difficulty remembering the question wasn’t directed at him, and to not react defensively.

“ _Fifteen_ ,” Kaiba snarled. “Fifteen different fail-safe measures – _completely ignored_! Try again.”

Joey looked down at his knees. He smoothed his jeans with his hands.

“I know where he works out of.” Kaiba rolled his eyes. “…I don’t care what _she said he said_ ,” he mocked. “He’s a liability. A liability _your people_ failed to manage responsibly.”

Kaiba was silent for a minute. His pacing seemed to become more furious.

“Oh,” Kaiba snorted, “you certainly have a lot of opinions about how _I_ should be managing. _Far_ too many opinions for someone in the position you’ve found yourself in today.”

Joey dragged his shoe against the carpet.

Kaiba’s frown was deep and ugly. It pulled at his cheeks unevenly. He pulled angrily at his bangs.

For a second, Kaiba didn’t seem like a CEO lecturing his employees. He just looked angry and confused. “I don’t even understand,” he bemoaned, “how could she-” He seemed to regain his composure. “ _Fine_. What do you advise in the immediate?”

Kaiba tapped his foot- more than impatiently- anxiously.

“ _Fine_ ,” he repeated, agitated. “ _Coward,_ ” he scoffed, “I’ll get back to you – Put her on the line.”

There was a second where Kaiba just stood waiting. And Joey sat on the divan, under the empty television screen. Kaiba looked into the screen, and then his eyes panned down to meet Joey’s, glaring.

Then the phone clicked against Kaiba’s ear.

“Explain,” was Kaiba’s only instruction.

It seemed like forever that Kaiba was pacing, and Joey was sitting, trying not to move or think or do anything.

Then-

“He is _not_ part of the chain of _command_!” Kaiba hissed into the phone. “… _I know he works directly under me!_ His nametag says ‘ _Useless Nobody_ ’ how much of a clue do you need?!” He was pulling at his hair again. “If you’re having trouble with the on-staff repair department, it’s not for _you_ to bypass protocol and recruit _idiots_ from my personal staff to fix your problems! …If I was a man prone to suspicion,” he chuckled darkly, “I’d suspect some form of sabotage on your part.”

Kaiba’s face contorted into a manic grin. Like victory was assured.

Then the backlash came.

“I’ve submitted numerous complaints about the department!” the phone yelled back. “If your senior staff is too busy coating their pockets to care about the management on the ground level, it’s no wonder this happened! It’s because of people like _you_ that only get involved once the backlash reaches _you_!

Kaiba faltered. No, he’d actually _flinched_. He caught himself at it. His face pinched like he had eaten a lemon.

“Good luck finding a new job.” His voice had gone ice cold. “Although I wouldn’t bother looking for one anywhere in Japan.” He slapped the phone shut, as loudly as he could. He turned away and opened it again. It took him only a moment to select a number.

“Get rid of her,” was all he said into the line, before slamming the phone shut again, and turning to face Joey.

Kaiba’s eyes were furious. His jaw was clenched. His coat flared around him.

“Wheeler,” he seethed, “do you have any idea how much money your little hiccup at Kaiba Land today has cost?”

_It had cost at least one person their job._

Joey fidgeted.

“Um… No?” He tried for a sheepish grin, but it died on his face. He found himself fidgeting guiltily, waiting for Kaiba to blow up, or otherwise close off completely. Joey certainly deserved it.

Kaiba studied Joey critically. He seemed to trace the outline of Joey’s head and torso with his eyes.

Kaiba sighed. He clicked his tongue.

“I don’t know either.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Nobody does.”

It wasn’t what Joey expected, but somehow it made Joey turned his head down, ashamed.

Kaiba continued.

“Nobody has any documentation of what went wrong with the roller coaster track, before you and your stupid friend started messing with it… Nobody knows what parts needed to be repaired and which needed to be replaced…” He spoke slowly at first, and then sped up. “Nobody knows if your friend actually managed to complete some of the repairs, or whether he just made things worse. Nobody knows whether the general management and maintenance department on staff would have made a worse mess of things because of their feud, or if they’d have foregone a proper test run and hurt some of the guests. Nobody knows if we lost customers – people who will never make a return visit because the Blue Eyes Roller Coaster was closed – or if we’ve ensured repeat visits to Kaiba Land by those seeking to ride the attraction they missed. Nobody knows if the _thirty million_ or so yen we’re putting in to see the ride fixed overnight is just the price of standard upkeep for depreciable assets.”

Kaiba was glaring, towering over Joey, from all the way across the room.

“But let me make this clear to you, _Wheeler_ ,” Kaiba hissed. “When you make the decision to dick around with things that have a price tag far higher than your entire life could be bought and sold for, it’s on your own head. The facts don’t matter. It’s the weakest link that faces the consequences, and it’s only your own good luck that there was a weaker link around to take the blame for you this time.”

Joey wilted.

 _He already_ knew _. It had always been_ him _._

It didn’t matter who messed up – he had always been the weakest link. It hadn’t been his fault when one of the paperboys had vandalised someone’s home, and they all got replaced. It wasn’t his fault when money disappeared from the register of the hardware store. Or when a jealous manager at the depot decided his girlfriend was a little too friendly with Joey. Or when his dad came home cold and sick and hurt, and Joey had to take the day off to nurse him.

At some point, Joey had stopped caring if he was the one doing the vandalising and stealing and cheating and screwing up. What difference did it make, if he was gonna be the one hungry at the end of the day?

But here he’d listened to Kaiba successfully divert blame off of him. He was just the _liability_. It was everyone else that had messed up.

Joey’d forgotten what it was like – to be the one chosen to go on – to have someone else take the hit for you.

He’d forgotten how _unpleasant_ it was.

Joey turned his eyes up to Kaiba, softly accusing. It was only because of Kaiba’s whims – because of _luck_ – that that girl had been the one to lose her job, and Joey had been the one to go on.

Kaiba met his glare for a moment. Joey was sure Kaiba understood in spite of himself.

To Joey’s surprise, it was Kaiba that broke first. His eyes raked away from Joey, and down at the floor. He exhaled harshly, through his gritted teeth, and ran a hand through his hair.

“You don’t need to do all this, Wheeler,” Kaiba said. “You don’t need to run around like a hyperactive terrier trying to fix everything that falls apart in this company. I don’t care what kind of menial shit you occupy yourself with during the day. All I need you to do is pick up Mokuba. That’s it. I don’t want you calling off again.”

Kaiba pulled at his hair. He was almost talking in a whisper now.

“All I need you to do is pick up Mokuba and make sure he’s okay.” Kaiba’s shoulders sagged. “Or not hurt, at least.”

Joey must have sensed the opening, without even thinking about it. It had been such a bad day, it must have been desperation. To get a word in, to grab the first lifeline he could reach.

“So what you’re saying…” Joey grinned smug, angry. “Is that you _need_ me?”

He regretted it almost immediately. He had expected Kaiba to go on the defensive.

Kaiba seemed to… almost sulk. He looked more like a sulky teenager than Joey had ever remembered him being back when they were in school.

Kaiba’s lip contorted. He crossed his arms. He refused to meet Joey’s eyes.

And, after a silence that dragged a little too long, he said this:

“Get out of my office, deadbeat.”

“Not a deadbeat,” Joey responded. But his heart really wasn’t in it. He dragged himself up off the divan, and to the door.

“Still got your job?” Satou-chan asked, as he clicked the door shut behind him.

Joey’s shoulders were sagging. He startled at the question.

“Hm? Eh- Yea-” he replied, scratching at the back of his head.

Satou-chan sighed. “Well, I guess that settles it.”

Joey laughed anxiously, unhappily. _Was it really that obvious?_

“Settles what?” he prompted.

Satou-chan leaned back in her chair. She was absorbed in the files on her desk, not giving Joey her full attention. But the corner of her mouth curled up.

“If Kaiba-sama didn’t fire you for this, he won’t fire you for anything,” she said. “And if you didn’t leave last week, nothing will make you leave. You tried your best,” she offered, “but you’re stuck here. Whether you like it or not.”

Satou-chan reached for a stamp on her desk – _confidential._ It clicked pointedly, as she pressed it against one of the documents.

If that didn’t seal the deal, nothing would.

==

So, it was maybe understandable that Joey wasn’t in the best of moods when he got out of work on Thursday, walked past the reception desk on Kaiba Corp’s ground floor, and found Miyoshi and Mami waiting for him. Mami was standing in front of the partition, and no longer dressed for work. She had on lipstick, a pair of black flats, and a neatly pressed peacoat on over her skirt suit. Her lips were pursed, and she appeared very solemn.

“Hey guys,” Joey said, trying to cover his listlessness with enthusiasm. “Everything okay?” he asked. “Nobody died, did they?”

“Joey-kun,” Miyoshi smiled at him. “Mami was hoping she’d run into you. There’s something she’s wanted to say.”

Mami gave Miyoshi a betrayed look, but Miyoshi only leaned over the reception desk and gave Mami a small push on the back.

Joey stepped back, as Mami jerked forward.

“Umm…” Mami stalled. She shuffled on her feet. But then she screwed her eyes tightly shut, and bowed deeply to him.

“Oh, hey, uh-” Joey flustered. “Whatever’s going on, it can’t be worth all that.” He tried to urge Mami to her feet.

“My apologies,” Mami rushed out. “I know you asked me about drinking parties on your first day of work. The truth is, even though there isn’t a big push for it from the upper management, Miyoshi-san and I arrange drinking parties all the time.” Mami’s breath shuddered in her lungs. “It’s just that I didn’t know you that well at the time and I-” Mami looked up briefly, and blinked at him quickly, before turning her head back down. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I misjudged you, Wheeler-san. You’ve been very kind and helpful to Keiko-san and me. It was only my own prejudices-”

“Hey- Hey-! It’s okay.” Joey flushed, embarrassed. He waved a hand up to dismiss Mami’s concerns. “I’m really not that into drinking parties. You don’t have to-”

“What I’m saying,” Mami ploughed forward, “is that the three of us and Satou-san were going to go out to Hue tomorrow night. I understand if you can’t- but it’d be really nice if you could come – as our kohai.”

Joey faltered.

“Ah, if you’re not comfortable…” he tried. “If Miyoshi or Keiko put you up to this…”

Miyoshi smiled slyly in the background.

“It’s not that.” Mami shook her head. “Everyone has been a really good sempai to me here at Kaiba Corp, and then I went out of my way to exclude my only kohai. And even though you’re a guy, you’re working out of an offshoot of the secretarial branch, so it’s not as if you’ve got another group to go out with-” Mami cut herself off. She seemed to realise this might be insulting.

Joey wasn’t insulted though. It was good to hear it said aloud. He’d failed somewhere as a guy – _why else couldn’t he hold onto the people he wanted?_ But, through the shared experience of working together at Kaiba Corp, Mami and the others were willing to make room for him. 

“Ah, Mami-san, how old are you?” he heard himself ask.

Mami frowned sullenly. “Twenty-two. I’ve been working at Kaiba Corp for two years,” she said firmly.

“Heh~ We’re the same age then.” Joey grinned. “And you’re already a sempai I can count on! …But- I- uh-”

His refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but somehow he felt himself touched by Mami’s earnestness.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

And that was how he found himself in the backseat of a cab the following night, squished between Satou-chan and the door, with eight thousand yen (directly from his secret stash) stuffed in his wallet.

The girls were talking about minor inconveniences at work – frustrating visitors at the reception desk, the amount of sass they had to put up with from the security guards, and then commonly lamenting the lack of romance in their lives. Satou-chan prodded Joey into talking about the fiasco at Kaiba Land, which led to a discussion about his previous succession of jobs and how he’d lost every single one of them. And he felt like a loser, but his coworkers were laughing and sharing their own embarrassing stories.

In no time at all they were seated at Hue, with five mugs of beer spread across the table, and Joey sipped at his slowly at first, and then quickly. He sat, studying the faces of his co-workers, laughing and teasing, as they ordered chicken wings and pickles and calamari. And he felt himself hesitate to join in. The elation he felt building in his chest was crushed by the all-consuming _guilt_ he’d temporarily forgotten over the working day.

_He’d rejected the invitation to go to Yuugi’s college department drinking party and now he was sitting with a bunch of coworkers, only a day after he should have gone out with Yuugi._

Miyoshi was explaining something about UFO sightings in Osaka, and Joey shivered. He’d gone through three drinks already, but it was rapidly becoming his top priority to drown out the guilt and fear.

And that was why he swallowed drink numbers four through seven, one right on top of the other, and let himself get completely wasted.

The bar was dimly lit in neon pinks and greens. The wooden rectangular table felt solid, but it was the only thing that did. The cushions under his seat on the floor seemed to give way too easily. Plates full of half-eaten appetizers were stalked on the table, one on top of the other, like unbalanced models of the Kaiba Corp tower. Shapes seemed to dance in the shadows along the wall. The beer fizzed and bubbled, along with the laughter of his co-workers.

Joey slumped forward on the table. Keiko was sitting across from him, reaching for the pickles with her chopsticks.

“Keiko- Keeeiiiiko-chan,” Joey whined. “You’re so cute. You’re so cute, but also not naïve. It’s so cute. You’re so cute.”

Keiko laughed and bopped him on the nose with her chopsticks.

Joey turned his head sideways towards Miyoshi.

“Mami and Miyoshi, too,” he said. “You’re both really cool and cute.”

Joey didn’t get to take in their reactions before turning to the seat diagonally across from him.

“And Satou-chan. Satou-chan’s the cutest of all!” he declared. “And super _hot_!”

Miyoshi and Keiko actually laughed at this.

“Ah, Joey-kun…” Miyoshi said. She tilted her head as she leaned forward, and slurped the foam off the top of her beer mug. “You _do_ realise Satou-chan’s in her forties.”

“That must be it,” Joey agreed. He pulled himself up off the table. “It’s that mature womanly body.” He traced a silhouette of Satou-chan’s rounded figure with his fingers. “It’s so cute!” he profused. “And sexy~”

He slumped back down over the table. He giggled to himself, as he groped around for his beer and some more chicken wings. _Ah, man, if his hands happened to find some of Satou-chan’s curves, that wouldn’t hurt either._

“Whoa!” Keiko laughed. “Guess we learned something new about Jou-kun today~”

Satou-chan harrumphed. She shuffled nervously in her seat.

Joey’s ears piqued.

“Don’t worry!” he proclaimed, struck by a sudden sense of professionalism and propriety. “It’s not like I’m gonna make a move on you, Satou-chan. I’m committed. Got the very best girl in the whoooole world. Here, lemme show you her picture.”

Joey dug into the pocket of his jacket. When it provided no more results than a couple pieces of olive green lint, he checked the pocket on the other side. This time he was successful.

“Aha!” he said, pulling his wallet out triumphantly. He flipped it open and pointed to the clear plastic picture holders, as he handed it over to Miyoshi on his right.

Miyoshi accepted the wallet in both hands. She squinted at the pictures.

“Ah, she looks very pretty, Wheeler-san.” Miyoshi said graciously. “Very delicate.”

Joey’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. He leaned over Miyoshi’s shoulder.

“Oops, wrong photo,” Joey laughed. “That’s my sister. Aw, man she looks so young there.” He traced his finger over the pink collar of Serenity’s blouse. “That picture’s from two years ago already.”

He collapsed into Miyoshi’s shoulder and sniffled.

Miyoshi giggled, as she jostled him off. “Well, I guess time sure does go by fast.”

Joey barely heard her. “My sister’s so smart. She deserves more than anyone. Nobody understands. She saved my life. She doesn’t understand.” Joey sniffled, but remembered suddenly what he was doing.

“But my girlfriend,” he said, sitting up straight. “I have to show you.”

He reached over Miyoshi’s shoulder and flipped Serenity’s picture over, so Miyoshi could see Mai’s on the other side.

Mai was winking and smiling confidently in the photograph. Her chin was tilted up just the slightest amount. The very top of corset just barely cut above the bottom edge of the photograph.

Miyoshi studied the photo. Her lips pursed, like she wasn’t sure if she should say anything. But then-

“This is a picture of Mai Valentine,” she said sceptically.

Across the table, Keiko burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, are you serious?” she huffed.

Miyoshi turned the photo so that those on the other side of the table could see it.

Mami giggled into her hand.

“He couldn’t even cut out a picture of a normal idol,” Keiko snickered. “Well, he works at Kaiba Corp, so maybe it’s not much of a surprise that he’s a Duel Monsters otaku.”

“Hey! I’m no otaku~” Joey whined.

Keiko reached bent over across the table, and snatched the wallet out of Miyoshi’s hand. Mami looked over her shoulder at it.

“It’s a good shot of her,” Keiko admitted. Her cheeks puffed. “But, really, your taste in idols is weird, Joey-kun. If you’re going to pretend someone’s your girlfriend, you might as well shoot for the stars.”

“But she really is my girlfrieeeend~” Joey whined. He slumped down against the table. His elbow hit a dish of mayonnaise.

“Mmm, yeah, her style is a little dated, isn’t it?” Miyoshi put in. “It’s kind of gaudy – all the bright purple she uses in her make-up – but she’s also not really offensive at all. I feel like she’s really popular in the marketing niche she’s carved out. She did all those spots for bath products and perfume, right? For some reason, it seems like middle-aged ladies would like her.”

“Don’t say middle-aged,” Mami hissed from across the table. She took the wallet gently from Keiko’s hands and passed it to Satou-chan. “Satou-san,” she addressed softly. “You really liked her, right? You mentioned the campaign that she did a while back.”

“Mmm,” Joey hummed into the table.

Satou-chan looked at the photo – stern-faced and indifferent.

“What campaign?” Keiko asked.

“Hm, she did a campaign on sexual harassment in the workplace,” Mami offered.

Joey smiled into the table. He remembered that series of photoshoots Mai had been hired for. It involved a lot of jacket tops and pencil skirts and black heels. And Mai’s hair had been pulled into a bun, so the nape of her neck was showing. There were lots of shots that mimicked the predatory gaze of perverted bosses, overlaid with slogans about the empowerment of women, and keeping the workplace professional. Joey remembered feeling kind of unsure that the posters had gotten their message across. He found himself unable to look at them without his eyes drifting to a couple of specific areas.

 _Ah, Mai looked so good in professional wear. Professional wear in general was just-_ good _. The tight skirts and blazers. Crisply cut shoes and ankles. Ties and suits. Pinstripes… It was too bad Kaiba was always wearing those ridiculous long coats. He’d look good in a tie and navy blue pinstripes._

“I remember that campaign,” Miyoshi admitted. “You don’t, Keiko-san? They even had the ads up at the metro station.”

“Satou-san said it really helped her, and influenced her way of thinking.” Mami smiled. “Right, Satou-san?”

“Hmm…” Satou-chan hummed vaguely. “I can’t remember.”

Mami frowned. Her eyes seemed to well up. “You said your boss wouldn’t stop badgering you and… other things too… And you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to find a new job at your age…”

Mami’s eyes seemed to well up, but she continued on.

“But you said Miss Mai-san’s campaign gave you the courage to try. And you didn’t think you’d do that well, but here you are working as Kaiba-sama’s personal secretary!” Mami beamed. “And you said it was the greatest success story of your life, and you were Mai-san’s biggest fan!”

Satou-chan hummed noncommittally. Her cheeks flushed orange in the dimmed light of the restaurant.

“Hachimura-kohai,” she addressed Mami, “your memory for this type of thing is too good.” She pressed Joey’s wallet shut in her hand, and smiled vaguely at where the picture of Mai was once open.

“Satou-chaaaan,” Joey bawled. He was only vaguely aware of how he got up, stumbled to the other side of the table, and plopped down on Satou-chan’s left side. “Satou-chan, you don’t need to be embarrassed at all, that’s sooooo touching.”

He encircled her with his arms and pressed his cheek, wet and slick with tears, into Satou-chan’s. She recoiled from him, but was sandwiched in by Mami embracing her from the other side.

“Mai will be so happy to know she helped someone as wonderful as you, Satou-chan!” Joey bawled.

Mami nodded vigorously in agreement. “I’m sure if she knew she’d be proud!”

Keiko and Miyoshi were taking photos with their phones and cooing over the results at the other side of the table.

Satou-chan’s brow wrinkled.

“And Kaiba’s not such a bad guy after all, is he?” Joey sobbed. “There really is a lot of prejudice out there~ But he really must have recognised your talent!”

“Satou-san’s the greatest!” Mami gushed. “She made it all the way from general orientation to the top secretarial position in the company in under two years!”

“You _are_ great, Satou-chan! But Mai… My girlfriend’s the greatest…” Joey whimpered. “She’s so soft… and cool… and pretty… and she kicked my ass that one time but, like, in a loving way and- But Satou-chan is also so cool and-”

“Alright, that’s enough out of both of you,” Satou-chan said sternly, as she pushed them away.

Mami beamed through her watery eyes. Joey sniffled and turned his face down as he rubbed at his eyes with his hands.

Satou-chan glared at both of them, as she served herself a chicken wing and some cucumber pickles.

“Yes, yes, you’re both very kind,” she allowed, before taking a big bite of chicken.

Joey suddenly realised his lap was wet too. It seemed a mug of beer had been toppled over on the table in front of them. Had he done that?

Joey fumbled around for napkins, but his hand caught somewhere on the bowl of edamame shells. In the meantime, Mami found them. She reached over Satou-chan to offer him a pile of napkins, smiling.

Miyoshi and Keiko were giggling.

“Here, just have another drink and calm down a little – both of you,” Satou-chan commanded, looking between Mami and Joey. She waved her hand up to call the waiter. “Next round’s on me.”

==

Joey woke up face-down on a futon, with a disorienting headache and one hand down his pants.

For a split second, he wasn’t sure where he was – and it lingered uneasily, even as he felt the relief of identifying the firmness of the futon and the familiar dent in the pillow that cradled his face. It was his.

And, having overcome that hurdle, a second wave of mortification settled deeply into his stomach.

_He’d made a fucking fool of himself, hadn’t he?_

He remembered sobbing over Satou-chan. And cuddling Keiko and Mami. And stumbling around and spilling beer everywhere. And passing his wallet between all four of them. And accosting strangers to brag about Serenity and Mai.

And he remembered laughing – laughing a _whole lot_. Probably more than he had in a while.

Joey wiggled his toes in his socks. There was a hole in one of them.

He was still wearing his jeans and his jacket, but his back was cold. The futon’s quilt was not pulled up over him. And it occurred to him that he had no idea if his father had come home last night but, if he had, he’d have seen his son lying with his hand down his jeans or, worse, right in the middle of humping his futon.

 _Fuck_ , Joey groaned. He pressed his burning face into his pillow, and held it for a couple more seconds, before finally opening his eyes.

He extracted his hand from his pants, noticed it was itchy and coarse, covered in dried semen and the pungent smell of beer.

He blinked at the mess around him, and reached first for his phone. It was six thirty-six in the morning, plenty of time to make it to work. There was a missed call and a voicemail from Yamada-san, but that seemed to be the only recent entry into his call and text history – which was a good sign. At least he hadn’t embarrassed himself further with drunk calling.

He set his phone down. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed heavily, trying to get his saliva glands working.

There was a note next to his pillow, and he reached for it and read it curiously.

_…_

_Joey-kun,_

_I was the one who dragged you up to your apartment and took your shoes off – so you owe me again! ٩(_ _｀□´_ _)۶_

 _Just kidding, Jou-kun~ (*´ω_ _｀)o  
_ _It was great hanging out with you last night. You’re just a big teddy bear when you’re drinking. And it was nice to have a guy around to drive away pick-up artists._ _Mami and the others had a good time too, so you’re welcome to go out drinking with us anytime~ We usually go out Friday nights, so you’ll know when. But I’ll be seeing you at work before then anyhow~_

_\-- Osamura Keiko_

She’d doodled a seal with a flower on its head next to her name. Joey wasn’t sure he got it, but it was cute, and made the corner of his lip curl up.

_He’d managed to fit in a little after all._

And she hadn’t mentioned his apartment or his father at all. Joey yawned as he stood up. There was no sign of his father anywhere.

Joey frowned. Now that he had time to think about it, it wasn’t a good sign. He still didn’t know if his dad had made it home last night but, now that it was looking less likely, Joey felt himself worry. His dad was already coughing and sniffling from a summer cold. He should be bundling up and resting, not wandering around through the nights.

Joey shivered in the drafty apartment. He turned down to look at the biggest failure of the evening.

There were lottery scratchers scattered _everywhere_. Over the futon, and on the frayed carpet. A couple had even drifted to the top of the couch. They flashed in bright red and pink and orange and blue, covered in holographic patterns.

_Win Big! Grand Prize is 10000000!!! Fame & Fortune!_

Joey frowned. He brushed the carbon shavings off his jacket, although some of them stuck to the dried beer. He turned back to Keiko’s note.

_PS. We tried to stop you from going to the convenience store and buying them~ But you weren’t to be deterred. That’s the spirit, Joey-kun! Do your best! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑_

Joey sighed and bent down to collect the scratchers.

He counted up forty-six of them altogether – stacked them up one-by-one in his hand.

He checked and, as improbable as it seemed, he hadn’t won a single yen on any of them.

==

_“You’ve reached the personal voice mailbox of Mai Valentine, duellist extraordinaire. If you’re calling regarding sponsorship, tournament booking, or for other business related reasons, please hang up and dial xxx-xxx-2511. If you just want to talk to little old me, please leave a message, and I’ll see what I can do.”_

_The message cycled through another three times. She said it first in English, then Japanese, then in German and Hungarian. She’d confessed to Joey once that she did it to discourage people from leaving messages. It was a long wait in which to re-evaluate the importance of what you had to say._

_Joey himself was starting to re-evaluate by the time the machine actually beeped._

_“Uh, hey, Mai. This is Joey,” he said._

_“…”_

_“I was... just trying to get a hold of ya.”_

_“…”_

_“I guess you’re busy,” he laughed. “You might even be flying – way up in the air – today. I can never keep your itineraries straight.”_

_“…”_

_“So- I, uh, went out with my co-workers last night... Y- you know Youko-chan and the others.”_

_He took a moment to let this little white lie sink into his gut._

_“For some reason you came up…”_

_“…”_

_“Yeah, someone brought it up- And everyone was really impressed with that campaign you did a while back about sexual harassment in corporate offices. N-not that any of my co-workers work in an office b-but-”_

_He laughed nervously._

_“…”_

_“…I guess I felt really impressed too,” Joey admitted. “I was really proud to be able to call you my girlfriend. I was... really proud of you.” He blushed._

_“…”_

_“But I guess, it also made me feel a little… ashamed… by comparison…” he said softly_.

I mean, nobody would even believe that I knew someone as awesome as you – let alone that we were going out, _he thought._

_“…”_

_“I got pretty drunk,” he said. “You know how I’ll only have a drink or two when I’m out with you, well… This wasn’t that,” he groaned._

_“…”_

_“Apparently, while I was out, I spent something like… five thousand yen on lotto scratchers.”_

_“…”_

_“Boy, do I feel dumb,” he sighed._

_“…”_

_The silence at the other end of the line was starting to make him uneasy._

_“Well, I just thought I’d check in and let you know what was up.”_

_“…”_

_“I muh- miss you,” he coughed out, choked up. “Call me back when you can!”_

_“…”_

_Click!_


	7. Dirt, Mahjong, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. In the spirit of Yu-Gi-Oh, we’re gonna play some games. This is the mahjong chapter (divided into parts one and two). For those of you who aren’t familiar with mahjong, ah, oops~ The gist is you’ve got three suits and a number of special tiles, and you’re trying to make a winning hand of fourteen tiles, made up of (4) sequences or three-of-a-kinds, and (1) pair. It runs similar to a game of rummy. It’s more complicated than that, and also there are special hands and stuff, but Joey keeps it simple, and hopefully the story will be easy to follow for non-players. For those of you who are players- It’s been a long time, and I can pretty much guarantee I both made Joey seem like way more of a newb than he is, and made some kind of error in terms of the Japanese variant(s) of the game. Feel free to chastise me. Let me know if it’s difficult to read for whatever reason~
> 
> Other than that, thank you! Read & Relax.

_“Awww,” Mai purred into the phone. “You miss me?”_

_“D-Did I say that?”_

_Joey’s face blanched. He pressed the garlic crusher up to the pot, and scraped the flesh into the pan, so it dropped down into the fatty, shredded chicken. He couldn’t dirty his hands, so he lifted up his arm and wiped his forehead with his forearm. Beads of sweat caught on the pale hair on his arms._

_“You did!” Mai chirped happily. “I’ve got your message recorded, hon.” Her voice turned low and mocking. “_ I miss you so much, Mai-sama. Come back to me, and pat my head and kiss my nose and take me out. Smoochity-smooch _.” She pursed her lips and made fake kissing noises, before returning to her normal voice. “My message machine doesn’t lie,” she snickered. “That’s what you said, Joey.”_

_“Agh!” Joey groaned in fake exasperation. “Now I know you’re just making shit up. You’re such a liar, Mai.”_

_Joey’s nose wrinkled. It was probably just the smell of the garlic and burning chicken fat. Joey rubbed the pad of his big toe against the linoleum._

_“Ah, you caught me,” Mai giggled. Joey could hear the phone shuffled on the other end of the line. When the speaker pressed back up against her mouth again, her playfulness had left her for wistfulness. “I guess I am.”_

_This was irritating somehow. Joey busied himself with filling the kettle and boiling water for broth._

_He cleared his throat._

_“So, uh, you’re in Majorca, right?”_

_“Close enough.” Joey felt like he could hear Mai flip her hand dismissively. “Running cruises out of Majorca,” Mai specified.  
_

_Joey wiped a hand on his apron._

_“Wait… you’re on the ship?” he said. “Right_ now _?”_

_Mai had apparently read something dismissive in his voice._

_“What’s so bad about ships?” Joey heard her pout. “You know~ We met on a ship~”_

_“No, it’s just-” Joey felt himself flush. He would rather have not been reminded of the way he’d acted the fool the first time they met. “Just-” he couldn’t think of what to say. “How are you making this call?” he decided. “I thought you were between voyages? Didn’t you have some gig in the casinos in town?”_

_Mai answered his questions in order._

_“The ship has their own radio tower.” Mai huffed, irritated. “They charge out the roof for local calls,” she complained. “You can imagine international’s a bitch.”_

_Joey grasped his cell phone in his hand and tried to forget who paid the bills on it._

_“Not that you’re not worth it,” Mai hastened to reassure._

_She moved on from this rather quickly._

_“And I finished up in town for now. The poker tournament in Palma went great!” Mai said proudly. She sighed. “It’s just there’s a couple of months until Portugal. Nothing to do but float around until then~”_

…

They’d sat on opposite ends of a hotel’s comforter. Mai fanned the cards out, face down, in her palm. Her fingers shuffled deftly, flying between the cards. There was no consideration for spades and clubs and hearts getting smudged or bent or frayed, the way there was with Magicians and Dragons and Harpie Ladies.

“Eyes up, cards down,” Mai teased. She tapped her finger to his chin and winked. Drew his eyes away from the creamy lace of her bra and the curve of her navel, and up into her dark eyes. She’d leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth, before setting down her cards – a straight flush – on the surface of the comforter.

“Agh~ I just don’t get poker~” Joey had complained.

Mai laughed, and piled the cards together.

“It’s not complicated enough for you,” she teased. “It’s not complicated enough for me, either,” she said. “Duel Monsters is more fun. I get tired of just bluffing all the time.”

“Then why do you bother with blackjack and poker?” Joey pouted.

Mai frowned and started lecturing.

“Have you ever known a gambler to quit?” she prodded. “Listen, hon, you aren’t ever done with anything that brings in this kind of money~”

“What money?” Joey snorted. “Tell that to my dad.”

“You know why your dad doesn’t win, Joey?” Mai asked. She paused for dramatic effect. “It’s because he doesn’t play for the house.” She winked.

…

_The chicken was starting to char in the pan again. Joey hastily scraped the bottom of the pan, and poured hot water over it. He searched the cupboards for spiced oil._

_“You know, I think it’s good we met on a ship,” Mai had decided, as Joey spaced out. “They say it’s different when you meet people when you’re travelling. There’s something romantic and unearthly about it, right?”_

_Joey pouted. “But you’re always travelling~” he said. “Who was the last person you met while you were staying in one place?”_

_He didn’t know why Mai had to float around for two months until her tournament in Portugal._

Why don’t you go visit your folks right now? _he wanted to ask._ Get it out of the way!

_Mai laughed. “True. True.” And it took Joey a moment to remember what she was responding to._

==

Joey lined his feet against the bedroom wall. The red toes of his white socks were running thin, and near tearing. Joey squinted at them critically, as he stabbed a piece of chocolate roll cake with his fork, and dragged it to his mouth. It was a challenge to eat while lying on his back, but it was a challenge he was meeting with aplomb.

He arched his back, and tried to glance over at Yuugi, whose head was predictably stuck in his enclave of textbooks.

Flecks of coconut and whipping cream dropped onto Joey’s nose, and he wiped absently at them, collecting the crumbs on his finger. He’d left the fork sticking out of his mouth, and he licked around it at his finger.

He looked back up at his socks.

This continued until, after several blind stabs at his plate failed to produce any more cake. He ran the blunt edge of the fork against the glass, trying to collect the last of the cream.

He looked back at Yuugi again. On top of the stack of books sat Yuugi’s piece of cake, still untouched.

He managed to remain patient for about three seconds.

“Hey, Yuugi,” he called.

Yuugi hummed noncommittally. He seemed torn between his studies and his desire to acknowledge Joey. His head seesawed back and forth slightly, as he tried and failed to pull himself out of his work.

“Hey, Yuugi!” Joey said, louder this time. “Are you gonna eat that?” He pointed to the plate on top of Yuugi’s textbooks.

Yuugi finally succeeded in pulling himself away this time. He pressed himself away from his desk, and turned towards Joey.

“Hmm?”

He seemed confused. And his eyes bleary and unfocussed behind his glasses. He blinked clarity into them.

“Your cake. Can I have it?” Joey batted his eyes innocently.

Yuugi blinked, still confused, and looked at the plate on top of the textbooks as if he’d never seen it before.

He plucked it up in his hand, and reached for the fork.

“No way,” he giggled. He shoved a bite into his mouth.

Joey clicked his tongue, as Yuugi laughed around a bite of chocolate.

“Hey~! You wouldn’t even have noticed the cake was there if I hadn’t pointed it out to you.”

Yuugi continued to laugh. He spun his chair back and forth and swallowed another bite.

“Didn’t Mom give you an extra-large slice?” Yuugi prompted.

Joey pouted.

Yuugi laughed again. “She likes you~” he teased. “ _Joey-kun should take better care dressing himself. Is Joey-kun getting enough rest? What kind of donburi do you think Joey-kun would prefer?_ ” he mimicked.

Joey felt himself colour. He had felt a little bit proud, with the way Mutou-chan asked him to help her serve up the cake, and sweep the front entrance of the house. She’s patted him on the shoulder casually, and given him the slice of the roll cake with the chocolate medallion on top.

“She gave you all the credit for bringing me out of my shell, back in tenth grade~” Yuugi laughed.

Joey opened his mouth to say that that was pretty ridiculous. Atem and Anzu definitely got part of the credit. But then-

“Me too~” Yuugi added. “I give you all the credit.” He winked.

This seemed too much to bear. Joey gaped for a minute, face burning.

“Eh- er- I see…” Joey said. He floundered only a moment longer, before he let a smirk tilt the side of his mouth. “I didn’t know you felt that way… That you and your mom admired old Joey Wheeler that much… In that case…”

Joey set his place aside. He rolled over on his stomach as smoothly as he could, and propped his head up against his hands, and kicked his feet up at the knees, entangling them seductively.

“I suppose I can return Mutou-chan’s affections, and take over as your guardian~” Joey batted his eyes exaggeratedly. “Whaddaya think, Yuugi~? If you like me that much, want Joey-kun to become your new papa-kun~?”

Yuugi snorted whipped cream up his nose. He looked caught between laughter and illness, as he coughed. He picked an eraser off the desk and flicked it over so it bounced off Joey’s forehead.

Joey giggled to himself.

“Too far, Joey,” Yuugi hacked around his cake. “Gross~ That’s still my mom!” he protested. But he was smiling.

“Heh, heh~” Joey smirked, pleased with the turn the conversation had taken.

He felt less pleased when Yuugi turned, smiling, back to his work.

Joey bit his lip. He jostled his feet uncomfortably, before reaching to find where the eraser had fallen. He tossed it in the air a couple of times. When this proved unexciting, he gripped it tight in his hand and scrubbed at his nails, watching the flecks of dirt and grease fall into the folds of the eraser and fall to the floor in shreds.

He managed to hold the silence for another minute or so, before sighing heavily.

“Ah, this week is gonna take a bite outta my ass~” he whined. “Yamada-san’s bugging me again about temp. Just what I need – three nights breaking my back over a fuckin’ ditch. And that’s on top of the normal five shifts and having to deal with Kaiba’s bitching…”

“Hm?” Yuugi asked, as he looked back to Joey. He realised what Joey had said belatedly, and responded before Joey could repeat himself. “That sounds really tough,” Yuugi commiserated. “Are you sure you can handle all that?”

Joey shrugged awkwardly, still resting the weight of his torso on his elbows.

“Yamada-san’s such a goddamn slave driver~” he sighed. “I told him I didn’t have much time, but he talked me into three shifts anyhow.”

Yuugi adjusted his glasses and tilted his head.

“Is Kaiba-kun not paying you enough?” he asked, concerned. “Can’t you just tell Yamada-san you’ve already got enough on your plate with your job right now?

Joey huffed. “Well, I _could_ …” he said sullenly.

Silence dragged out awkwardly between them. Yuugi’s face scrunched in confusion.

“You could, _but...?_ ” he prompted

Joey scowled. Telling Yamada-san to piss off would be fucking great. Only problem was Yamada-san was likely to throw the same line back at him, the next time he needed extra work on the fly. He assumed this catch-22 would be obvious, even to _Yuugi_.

_He owed Yamada-san anyhow, for all those time he’d scrounged up extra hours for Joey close to rental payments…_

He wished he had the luxury of burning his bridges.

Yuugi seemed to realise he’d stepped in something. He waved his question off nervously.

“I was just worried,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure if you’d gotten in trouble with Kaiba-kun because of the roller coaster…”

Joey rocked back and forth on the bed, and flipped over onto his back again.

“Er, did Honda tell you that?” he asked anxiously. “You took him to your department drinking party, huh? How was Honda? Was he pissed with me?”

“I don’t think so,” Yuugi answered, with just the tiniest tinge of doubt. “He didn’t talk about you all that much.”

Joey scowled.

_Figures…_

“He told us about the roller coaster after a few drinks. He seemed to think it was pretty funny by then.” Yuugi grinned sheepishly. “Sound like you guys had a crazy time at Kaiba Land.”

Joey hedged. It wasn’t Kaiba Land in particular that had upset him about the whole fiasco…

“Honda seemed in a good mood overall though, if a little distracted,” Yuugi admitted.

“Huh~” Joey agreed. “What? Was he tripping over himself trying to look good in front of all your college babes?”

“Well… it was his birthday so…?”

Joey blinked at the ceiling. For a moment he had forgotten…

“Oh, you actually got that out of him?” Joey snorted. The surprise made him sit up, and turn towards Yuugi. “I’m surprised. That’s super classified information… Yanno, I knew that bastard for three whole years and saved his ass from a dozen beatings before I learned when his birthday was. And that’s only because his older sister ratted him out. He’d never let me celebrate it or nothin’.”

Yuugi laughed. “Well, if it makes you feel better, he didn’t tell me it was his birthday either. I only found out because Otogi-kun disappeared halfway through the evening, and came back with presents and a bunch of party poppers.” Yuugi’s smile was bright. “Honda-kun seemed really embarrassed.”

Joey tried to laugh at Honda’s misfortune, but his snicker died prematurely.

“Aww, man,”  he said around a half smile. “I bet he was pissed~”

Yuugi shook his head, in a strange half-gesture that only made it halfway to his left side. “He didn’t seem to mind that much,” he chirped. “He spent a while with his head buried in his hands. But I think he was just trying to hide how much he was blushing. Otogi-kun got him some vintage Dragon Quest game, and some accessories for his motorbike.” Yuugi scratched the back of his head, and bowed his head apologetically. “I felt so guilty for not having a gift. But Honda-kun said it was okay… I got everybody to sing happy birthday to him – even the professors. I think it just made him more embarrassed but-“

Yuugi giggled. “He seemed really happy actually~ I told him next year we’d have to have a big party. To make up for all the years we brushed over it!”

“And… he _agreed_ to that?” Joey asked sceptically.

“He didn’t get a chance to before Otogi-kun latched onto the idea~” Yuugi giggled. “Otogi-kun said that Serenity-chan and him had been wanting to have a birthday party proper for a while. He offered up the Black Crown Game shop as a venue.”

“Huh~” Joey grunted. “They’re… getting along well, huh?”

Yuugi brushed him off.

“You know how they are with one another.”

Joey considered this for a moment.

“Er… yeah…”

He let it drop.

“So, um… that’s how my drinking party went…” Yuugi said. He hesitated. “H-How was your Friday?”

“Oh, um…” Joey flushed. “P-pretty good,” he said.

“That’s good,” Yuugi agreed. He hesitated longer. He readjusted his glasses. “Um, Anzu heard from Mai that you went out drinking with your co-workers…”

Joey felt all the blood drain out of his face.

He hadn’t consider his call to Mai might’ve gotten out. _Goddamn gossip mill…_ Except it was his own fault, wasn’t it? For not making the time to spend with his very best friend?

Joey collapsed down onto the bed, and slithered down to the carpeted floor.

“Yuugi! I’m so, _so_ sorry!” he pleaded. He placed his hands, triangular in front of him, and bowed his head to the floor. “I didn’t mean-” He found himself sniffling onto the carpet.

Tears were not falling, at least. But the lump in his throat was getting bigger all the time. He lifted his torso up and bowed down again.

“I’m _so_ sorry I ditched your department’s party and then went out with Mami-chan and the others.” He shifted uncomfortably. “S-She cornered me-” he said. He desperate to shift away the blame and the guilt, but it didn’t seem to be working. “Not that I couldn’t have- And- I-”

“Joey!” Yuugi was standing over him. Joey wasn’t sure when he’d gotten there.  But as Joey peeked up from where he was bowed to the floor, Yuugi looked gigantic, like a benevolent god.

Yuugi flopped down onto the floor, and laid face up with his head resting against Joey’s back.

“Don’t worry so much,” Yuugi reassured. “I just wanted you to know that I knew – so it wouldn’t be uncomfortable between us~”

There was a buzz of static electricity, as Yuugi nuzzled his curly hair into Joey’s shirt.

“I get that work sometimes takes precedence. It’s hard having so many commitments.” Yuugi shook his head and giggled. “But it’s a good thing, right – that you’re getting along well with your co-workers?”

The uncomfortable feeling in Joey’s stomach held. He grasped at the surface of the carpet, and felt the stringy white fuzz slip through his fingers. He tried to find the will to get up, and tell Yuugi he had it wrong, but he couldn’t find the context for it.

“Mmm,” he agreed vaguely. He rocked and turned over on the floor. Gently. So that Yuugi was disturbed only slightly as Joey repositioned it on his stomach~

“I worried you’d be all alone in the middle of Kaiba Corp,” Yuugi continued. “I’m glad you’ve made friends. Although-” Yuugi turned his head and smiled at Joey. “It would still be nice if I could introduce you to the rest of my department sometime.”

“Yuugi, I’m-” Joey started.

“But I’m happy~” Yuugi reassured.

He reached up, stretched his arm out to pat down Joey’s hair. “The roots are getting dark again…” he muttered absently, before continuing.

“I’m happy,” Yuugi repeated. “I feel really lucky to have a friend like you. That goes out of their way to make time to visit me, and sit in my room. Even when all I’m doing is studying.”

_Wasn’t Joey the lucky one though? The one that came here to mooch off of Yuugi? And to exist in a clear, comfortable space?_

Joey’s face was red. _Thanks, man_. The words caught in his throat.

He reached down to ruffled Yuugi’s hair in return. It was the same texture as the carpet, and the strands slipped easily through his hands.

==

It was a simple list of items, bulleted one after the other.

Canned coffee and cigarettes. White out. A packet of rubber bands. A lint roller. A bag of shrimp chips. (Even bald, old businessmen got the munchies it seemed.) A laser pointer. A second brand of cigarettes. And, of course, Lipovitan.

“Sulking isn’t becoming.” Satou-chan scolded.

Joey exaggerated his scowl. Took it past realism for the sake of comic effect.

Satou-chan tisked. A half-hearted reprimand.

He’d been kept on a tight leash since the roller coaster incident. Satou-chan seemed to be keeping him directly under her supervision most of the time, either that or she’d send him down to the internal mailroom. This was the first unique thing he’d been sent out for in days, and even Joey couldn’t shake the feeling he was being coddled and patronised.

 _If he needed a driver to take him to the convenience store anyhow, couldn’t the driver just pick up the things on the shopping list?_ Stupid. Stupid.

He wasn’t about to question it or complain though, not after having landed himself in hot water the week before.

“You can pay for it out of pocket. Just bring the receipt and we’ll reimburse you,” Satou-chan said. She waved the shopping list away, and turned back to her work.

Joey spent a couple of moments watching her hands curl over the corner of the phone list. Her skin was wrinkled a little right beneath her knuckles.

He couldn’t actually get out of not saying it.

“Um, I don’t know what out-of-pocket kind of cash you think I have on me, but I’ve got two hundred yen and change for the subway. So…” Joey trailed off, expectantly.

Satou-chan paused. She seemed to consider it for a moment then sighed.

She picked up her phone, and dialled pressed only a couple of buttons.

“Mmm, sorry to interrupt you. I was going to send Wheeler-san out for some supplies for your meeting with the board. He says he doesn’t have enough money on-hand to cover the purchases.”

Joey listened, to see if he could here Kaiba’s voice through the door to his office.

“Mmm, yes, Kaiba-sama,” Satou-chan agreed.

The phone clicked back down onto the receiver, and Satou-chan scooted back in her seat and pulled open the desk drawer.

She sorted through some folders and stray pens, reached for the back of the drawer, and drew out a collection of cards held together with a binder clip. Her nails clicked against the plastic, as she flipped through them – almost too fast to look at them.  Halfway through the pile, she stopped and drew out a credit card. She set it down on the desk and, using one hand, slid it over the surface of the desk towards Joey. Her fingers covering the digits on the front.

When she was done she nodded, and gathered the rest of the cards back up in an orderly pile, and clipped them back together.

Joey reached forward and tentatively picked up the card that had been set aside for him. It didn’t remind him of Mai’s golden VISA, or the dark grey card Anzu had sent him a picture of, digits and all, when she’d gotten one in the states. _It wasn’t like Japan_ , she’d told him. _This was the easiest way to pay for things here, and a lot safer than carrying cash around. And they’d hand a credit card to anybody in the USA, not just to rich businessmen with their families and homes paid off, who show off to their co-workers when they paid for the drinks and live entertainment._

No, this card had a feel all its own. A cold and professional deep blue, with silver numbers over the letters KC, in stark white. The JCB icon shone in the corner, separated from the blue background on a raised white border. Kaiba Corporation was printed next to the expiration date – _07•‘04_. It had two years left.

“H- _How do I use it_?”

The words slipped out of Joey’s mouth before he had the opportunity to consider them. He bit his lip and fought his reddening cheeks.

He used to lift wallets off of people, back when he was in the gang. It was mostly people he’d clobbered into the pavement, broke ass idiots just like him – he wasn’t some kind of weaselly pick pocket like that four-eyes Harada. But every once in a while easy targets flitted by on the train, and itchy hands got the better of him. He’d open the wallets later next to the tracks, pull out the cash, and ignore the faces on the IDs. Credit Cards were a rare find, and the idea that he could walk into a store and use one without being questioned was laughable. They were thrown into the bushes at the park along with bold-coloured club memberships and collectable phone cards.

‘ _How do I use it?’_ Joey thought, mockingly. _You’re not thirteen anymore._

The question did not strike Satou-chan with the same shame that it did Joey.

“If they ask you any questions, your Kaiba Corp ID should be proof enough of your right to use that card,” Satou-chan explained.

Joey thought about this, as he walked through the aisles of the Family Mart. It was the same one that he had met Kaiba in over a month earlier, and so there was kind of a disgusting nostalgia to it – like returning to the scene of a crime.

The prices were still terribly inflated, trapped inside of ghetto of the richest ward in Domino, and Joey cursed under his breath. He hadn’t thought about it while he was in the car, but he should have instructed the driver take him to another Family Mart.

_What difference did it make? It was all on Kaiba Corp’s tab anyhow._

Joey made himself ignore the prices as he flipped goods into his shopping basket. He slammed the shrimp chips down on top of canned coffee a little too heatedly. He grabbed the office supplies by the corners of their hard plastic seals, and pulled so too many of them dropped haphazardly on top off the rest of his purchases.

He stomped through the aisles, and tried to ignore the pain in the back of his head, and the growing hunger in his gut. He wasn’t here to get things for himself – pocky or asprin or gum.

It didn’t take long to gather the things on Satou-chan’s shopping list, not compared to the time it took to wait in line. There were four people waiting in front of him, and Joey busied himself with looking behind the counter. He still had to request a couple cartons of cigarettes, and he squinted at the brands packed up on the back wall. It was a beautiful mosaic of colour – red and green and orange and yellow – black and white. But it was difficult to distinguish the text on the boxes from so far off. Joey let himself instead be enamoured by the small seals on the sides – a cluster of stars, and the shining golden bat.

“Sir!” The cashier called him forward.

Joey blinked and walked up.

“Er, hi,” he said. He lifted up Satou-chan’s shopping list, squinted, and read off of it. “I’ll take one pack of Marlboro Ice and one Castor Gold.” Even if he didn’t know the specific products by name, the cashier certainly would.

The cashier bowed, and busied himself pulling down the cigarettes. One of the brands was a common one close to eye level, but the other had to be pulled down from the top shelf.

Joey watched him work. Watched the arch in his back as he reached up, and the way his apron ties twisted behind his back.

It occurred to him that this might be the same cashier that he bought Kaiba’s Lipovitan from the last time he’d been in, but Joey didn’t recognise him one way or another.

A stab of frustration set through him.

 _God, he_ hated _how_ forgettable _these people were._ You could forget all about them in the five seconds it took to walk from the counter out the front doors of the Family Mart.

“Is that all for you?”

The cashier had finished scanning the barcodes on the cigarettes. Had methodically pulled each item out of Joey’s shopping cart, scanned it, and wrapped them carefully in a plastic shopping bag.

“Er, yea-” Joey agreed. He dug into his pocket and flipped the Kaiba Corp credit card out onto the counter. He removed the lanyard with the Kaiba Corp ID from around his neck, and slapped it on the counter pre-emptively. Defensively.

The cashier didn’t blink. He reached for the credit card, bypassing the lanyard smoothly.

“All on your card?” he asked.

Joey squinted at the cashier’s nametag. _Tanaka-san_.

Joey was suddenly filled with the urge to do something stupid.

“Actually, can I also get one of those lotto scratchers.” Joey pointed down beneath the glass of the counter. “Just one of the hundred yen ones.” He looked down and saw that the cheapest scratchers were pink and yellow today, and decorated with little bumble bees and flowers.

“Of course,” the cashier said. He reached below the counter, and snapped one off the reel. He’d set the Kaiba Corp credit card down on the counter in the meantime, but the time it took him to scan the lottery scratcher and retrieve the credit card proved insufficient for Joey to work up the nerve to snatch it back, to hold the credit card against his chest protectively, to rescind his most recent decision.

The cashier slid the card against the register.

Joey winced. He half expected the register to suddenly flash red and beep like a siren. The cashier would turn on him suspiciously. The entrance to the Family Mart would shut as it went automatically into lockdown. _Intruder. Intruder._

Instead the receipt printed, just like that. The cashier snapped it off the register, and handed it to him with both hands, along with the lotto scratcher. He handed over the bag next, and bowed deeply to Joey, in casual reverence of his power as paying customer.

There no choice but to accept.

==

Joey felt embarrassed by how much of the car ride back to Kaiba Corp headquarters was spent wavering nervously on the issue of the lottery scratcher.

Certainly it was better to not mention it, to pretend he’d never bought it, than to apologise or draw attention to it. Joey didn’t know why he always had to toe the line and challenge the outer limits, but it was better to not mention such a quality to your employers. If Satou-chan didn’t notice the issue with the receipt, it was unlikely that anything would come of it – better to let it slide. It was only a hundred yen.

Joey kept on coming to this conclusion – over and over, time and time again – because for some reason he was completely unable to _let it go_. For some reason every time he thought he’d made his decision, he found himself reconsidering not fifty seconds later.

It was easy, somehow, to smile and thank the driver when they returned to the Kaiba Corp parking garage. Even the way he tapped his foot on the elevator floor, he felt convinced he didn’t seem quite guilty. Impatient, probably. The Kaiba Corp central elevator played no ambient music, and it was a long ride up to the sixty-fifth floor.

Joey rationalised there was nothing to do except wait for Satou-chan’s reaction when he handed her the receipt. Until that point he was only spinning his wheels. _Cross that bridge when you come to it._

Joey waltzed back into the top office, past the empty sky lounge and white walls, whistling to himself. He plopped the plastic bag from the convenience store down on Satou-chan’s desk – interrupting her phone call, and slid the Kaiba Corp credit card and the receipt up next to it. And when Satou-chan finally ended her phone call, when she gathered the credit card back up to put in the drawer, and filed the receipt with only a nod of thanks and a cursory glance at the total – that was when Joey stopped thinking because, somehow, thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere he wanted to be.

Kaiba wasn’t going to give a shit about a hundred yen. But who gave a shit what Kaiba did or didn’t give a shit about? Joey _had_ to tell him that he’d used the business credit card for something non-business-related. And he had to do it _right now_.

Satou-chan was ahead of him. She’d gotten up and taken the bag from the convenience store with her.

Joey sprinted after her, out into the sky lounge.

Satou-chan had walked behind the bar. She’d set the plastic bag on the counter, and had retrieved a large jet black tray from one of the cabinets.

“Hey, hey. Satou-chan,” Joey pleaded, trying to sound smooth. He leaned over the bar in a way he hoped was charming and seductive. “You’re busy right now, right?”

Satou-chan was arranging a crystal serving bowl, a few glasses, and an ashtray, but she paused to regard Joey.

“Did you require further direction, Wheeler-san?” she asked. “I believe you have to leave to pick up Mokuba-sama within the hour, but I will return just after I’ve delivered these to the board meeting. It’s only two floors down. It shouldn’t take long.”

“No, well, y’see-” Joey hedged. “You have all your phone calls and… stuff… So wouldn’t it better if I…”

Joey hooked a tentative finger around the handle of the plastic bag.

Satou-chan gave him a little frown and shook her head.

Joey ignored it.

“Why don’t I just take these to Kaiba and the directors for you? Okay? Seeya. Bye,” he rushed out, as he grabbed the bag and made a run for the elevator, keycard at the ready.

“Wheeler-san,” Satou-chan protested. “Wheeler-san, if you must, at least take the tray with you!”

Her voice had all the tone of somebody who knew a lost cause when she saw one, though. And Joey slammed the button on the elevator, and awaited the plunge downward.

His keycard did, apparently, grant him access to the sixty-third floor, but not to any of the rooms inside. And Joey had forgotten that the large swathes that made up the skyscraper’s upper floors were large and largely abandoned and creepy.

He walked through the halls, attempting to find the correct door. If he followed the corridor from the elevator out to the right, there was a suspicious pair of double doors. But he couldn’t hear anything when he pressed his ears up against them, so it was difficult to tell if anybody was on the other side of them. He turned the other way down the hall.

He was halfway down the hall in the other direction, and a bit overwhelmed by the way the hall branched out in five different directions.

“Kaiba!” Joey called out.

No response.

The bright florescent lights against the cream coloured paint on the walls made the skin on his hands look sickly, as he gripped the plastic bag.

He could go back up and ask Satou-chan where to go, of course. But Satou-chan might insist on going with him to complete the task, or she might insist on doing it herself. And, more importantly, if he headed back up to the top level, he might remember that this was a dumb idea in the first place and chicken out. So he settled for going by the doors one by one, pressing his ear against them, and listening for the one that had the velvet timbre of Kaiba’s clipped insults flowing inside.

He had checked almost every door on the floor and, finding nothing more than the sound of his own breath, was about to swing around for a second go-through when he noticed something.

The walls of Kaiba Corp’s long halls were crisp and clear, undecorated. Sterile, like a hospital clinic, but without any bulletins or patient charts or calming blue landscapes plastered up. It really gave the impression that this floor of Kaiba Corp had never been occupied at all. That something had, perhaps, happened, directly after it had been primmed and primed and painted, that sent it into disuse.

So a suddenly occupied stretch of wall stood out – a poster, framed in white and gold. It was for an upcoming theatrical release, _The Return of Banja: the Robot Dragon of Eons Lost_.

On the poster, Banja had hit a dynamic pose, roaring against a backdrop of planets and space. His bright orange eyes glared out towards the viewer, offset against his sleek silver body. Joey checked the corners of the poster, but he didn’t see the KC logo anywhere, or any other indication that the movie was affiliated with Kaiba Corp.

Somebody was exiting the elevator. Joey turned to look, then turned back to the poster – still charmed by the charisma of Banja the robot dragon, and then back to the new face.

The man was slightly shorter than Joey. Dressed in a deep navy suit, and carrying a briefcase in dusty brown. He had a pleasant face, and smiled as he waved to Joey from across the hall.

“Our latest pet project!” he explained. “Looking forward to the upcoming Golden Week, huh?”

Joey was caught off-guard. “Er-”

The man reached out his hand. He grabbed Joey’s a pulled it into a firm handshake.

“Daigo Akio,” he introduced. “And you are?”

“Joey Wheeler,” Joey said. When Daigo let go of his hand, Joey fumbled for his lanyard. “I’m, uh-”

 _Useless Nobody_ , his keycard read.

Joey let the card fall back down.

“I guess I’m...” he scratched the back of his head and tried to think up an explanation.

Daigo said something strange.

Joey blinked. It took him a minute to realise Daigo had spoken in English.

Daigo recognised Joey’s look of confusion before Joey had to explain it though.

“You’re the one acquainted with Mokuba-sama,” Daigo said, in Japanese this time.

“Yes!” Joey agreed easily. This seemed like a good way of understanding the situation.

“Very sorry,” Daigo laughed easily. “I’m the director for a lot of Kaiba Corporation’s foreign assets. I’m confident in my English.” He winked. “And thought I saw an opportunity to practice.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Joey laughed, in a way he hoped seemed light-hearted.

“Well is there some reason you’re loitering around this floor. I don’t think there should be anyone here, except Kaiba-sama and the other board members.” Daigo smiled. “Were you just impressed with our upcoming movie release?”

Joey held up the plastic bag tentatively. “Well, I got a request to deliver this to the meeting but, well, I couldn’t really figure out where the board meeting was supposed to be y’know. I tried shouting out and listening at each of the doors, but- nada, nothing.”

“Oh, that won’t work.” Daigo laughed. “The rooms on this floor are all soundproof.” He paused to let that sink in. “Here, I’m going that way so I’ll lead you there.”

Daigo turned, and headed straight for the first set of double doors that Joey had originally picked out as the most likely entrance to the board room.

Joey hurried after him, letting himself fall into gait a half-step behind.

“So, what’s up with that Banja movie, huh?” Joey asked. “I didn’t see the KC logo anywhere on the poster.”

“Oh, that?” Daigo chuckled warmly. “It’s being distributed through one of our subsidiaries,” he explained. “Kaiba Corp’s affiliation with the picture won’t be publicised until a few weeks after its opening, given it is successful.” He paused at the double doors. “It’s not the biggest budget film, but we’re expecting high returns – somewhere in the realm of eight hundred percent during its opening run over the vacation. Merchandising and home video sales are something to consider afterwards. It’s been a good five years since the last Banja movie was released, so we’re pushing for a revival.”

Joey couldn’t really make sense of this, before Daigo slid his keycard against the panel on the double doors. They unlocked for him, in a way they hadn’t for Joey.

Now that the door was open, Joey could hear the voices inside. Although they stopped abruptly as Daigo stepped inside, and Joey followed behind him.

The room was spartan for the most part. The only furniture included a large and empty oval table and its matching chairs. There were unlit screens against one wall, and panels of windows on the other.

Kaiba was leaning back in his seat, sitting with his hands crossed over his stomach. Putting on an air of disaffected confidence. His legs were fully extended, crossed at the heels. His eyes panned sideways to the door, along with the three other suits in the room, as Daigo and Joey entered.

“Sorry for my tardiness, Kaiba-sama.” Daigo said, bowing from the waist.

“Hn.” Kaiba snorted. “We started without you,” was all he said to this.

Daigo bowed again, and slid into his seat next to the other three suits. He seemed to blend into the group and disappear.

And that was when Kaiba turned his attention on Joey.

“And _you_?” he said. “What is it _you_ want?”

_Déjà vu._

If you had asked Joey the day before, Joey would have said that Kaiba was just as insufferable as he’d always been. But this proved that, in fact, Kaiba was running at fifty percent most of the time, because right now he was dialled up to a hundred.

Kaiba raised an expectant eyebrow. There was a taunting grin on his face. And a dance in the way that the light shined off his eyes.

“My unfortunate assistant,” Kaiba explained, waving lazily in his direction, “Joey Wheeler- _san._ ” He didn’t stumble over the honorific, and instead imbued it with the heavy tone of sarcasm.

The suits nodded to him, none of them offering their names in return. But Kaiba didn’t pay attention to that, he jutted his chin up and turned to Joey.

“Well, what is it?” he asked, in the sing-song of mockery. “We don’t have all day.”

He looked like he thought he owned the world, and that Joey was simply a fly he was too lazy to squash.

It was a Kaiba that Joey had almost forgotten existed. A Kaiba that existed before Mokuba and before Atem. This Kaiba had once smiled at him, as he flipped Joey’s Duel Monsters cards on the ground and told him to come back after he’d collected ten thousand of them.

There was a visceral response to this Kaiba. A burning rage that charged through Joey’s torso and pulled the muscles in his arms tight. No _– regular Kaiba was ten thousand times less insufferable than this asshole._ Joey wanted nothing more than to charge forward and wipe the smug expression off of this Kaiba’s stupid face, no matter how fucking _fake_ he knew it was.

But this Kaiba was also surrounded by supporters. It wasn’t like Kame Game, where Joey had Yuugi and Anzu and Sugoroku at his back, reminding him _he_ was the one in the right. The desirable one. The _superior_ one.

Here he was surrounded by Kaiba’s businessmen. Even Daigo, who a moment before Joey would have counted on his side of the basketball court, was fixing Joey with a look of derision that matched that of the other members of the board.

Joey felt ashamed. He felt angry that he felt ashamed. And then he felt ashamed that he felt angry. Nothing would change the fact that he didn’t belong here.

“So, um, heh, I went to the store for you guys~” Joey said, he plopped the plastic bag down on the oval boardroom table.

Joey’s face was starting to burn red, and he hated it. He felt embarrassed that he felt embarrassed. He tried and failed not to laugh nervously, as he waited for a response.

Kaiba’s expression didn’t change. Neither did any of the board members’ expressions. None of them budged an inch.

Joey fumbled. He looked down and reached into the plastic bag. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and read the label quickly.

“Hey~ Who got the Castor Golds, huh?” he asked, waving them up in the air. He set them down on the table and made like he was going to slide them across its polished surface to the owner.

When nobody spoke to claim them, he slid them across to Kaiba.

Kaiba made no move to catch them. The pack of cigarettes slid off the table and landed on Kaiba’s thighs. Kaiba closed his eyes.

When he opened them three seconds later, his expression hadn’t changed.

“So, um-” Joey continued, pulling the next object out of the bag. “Somebody asked for a lint roller?” He spun the wax paper around its cog. “I dunno, all your suits look pretty clean… I guess you’ve got a little bit of-” He pointed to one of the board members, and then at himself – demonstrating the mirror image of where there were a couple grey tufts of fluff on the lapel of his suit.

_Oh, god. What was he saying?_

“But that hardly seems worth getting all worked up about…” Joey continued, refusing to look at the board member’s face to gauge his reaction. “Maybe it was Satou-chan that needed the lint roller for something. Or-”

At this point, thankfully, Kaiba interrupted him.

“You’ve delivered what you came here to deliver. If that’s all…”

Kaiba trailed off, looking at Joey expectantly.

Joey floundered. He was pretty sure he looked exactly as lost and helpless as he felt, and this thought itself was too humiliating to bear.

“If that’s all, please excuse yourself,” Kaiba finally clarified. His tone was still light, and his expression still smug, but Joey was glad to hear the tiny bit of urgency there.

“Right,” Joey said. He stood there a moment longer, before dropping the lint roller back down. It made a clacking sound as it hit the table through the plastic bag. “It was nice meeting you all!” He nodded his head, in what he was pretty sure wasn’t an appropriate bow given the atmosphere in the room, and hightailed it to the door.

There was a mumble from the four board members. And Kaiba’s mocking voice rang out after him, as he fled. “Our thanks,” he said lazily. “Have a good afternoon, Wheeler- _san_.” He chuckled scornfully.

Joey slammed the door behind him, revelling in the miracle of soundproofed rooms. He was glad he couldn’t hear their laughter from out here in the hall. He was glad they couldn’t hear his laboured breathing, his resentful seething, or his angry whines as he pulled at his hair in shame and frustration.

==

The explanation, when it happened, happened long after even Satou-chan had clocked out. In the dim dusk of the waning day, the shadow of the Blue Eyes statue cast Kaiba’s expression into almost total darkness.

Except not really. Joey could tell Kaiba was not emoting. Not smiling. He hadn’t done either of those when he walked into the top office, back from wherever he had been, and found Joey waiting dreary in his chair at the desk adjacent to Satou-chan’s. He hadn’t said anything as Joey yawned, and scrambled up to follow him into his office. Kaiba had walked inside first, but he held the door open behind him a second too long to hide that he’d been waiting for Joey to catch it.

When Joey finished explaining, gripping his wallet in his hand, with the lottery scratcher sticking out the top, Kaiba had reached out his hand expectantly.

Joey couldn’t interpret it, so Kaiba had to explain.

“The _lottery scratcher_ , Wheeler,” he prompted, like it should have been obvious. “You purchased it with Kaiba Corp’s money. It is the property of Kaiba Corp.”

Joey hesitated. He took two steps forward, slipped the lottery scratcher out of his wallet and into Kaiba’s hands.

Kaiba stuffed the lotto scratcher into his desk without looking at it.

“You can go now, Wheeler.”

There was no mention of disciplinary action. Kaiba pulled out his laptop, and set it on the desk in front of his desktop computer’s screen.

Joey waited for only a minute.

“Have a good night, Kaiba,” he tried.

Kaiba said nothing back though, from his place in the office shielded from the dusk and approaching moonlight. And Joey left him in the darkness to go catch the train home.

==

The sound of the concrete breaker was still ringing in Joey’s ears, a half an hour later. He had set out to gather up the broken rubble, and haul it away, and then all there was to do was to start digging and try not to waste too much time rubbing at his ears.

The wet dirt stuck to his arms, past his gloves, and his white shirt was collecting stains.

Orders from above. It was an old office building, grungy and mildewed. The new owners wanted to use the original building and foundation and build up – higher and higher. But first the building had to be gutted – pull out the old plumbing and electric from the sixties. Yesterday it had been Joey and four others inside the building, breaking through the walls – the paper and insulation, and hauling away the worst of the mouldy plywood. Yamada-san had said demo was easy – give a few young men a crowbar and, if anything, they’d go overboard and leave dents in the hardwood studs of the foundation.

Today there were half a dozen of them, all spread out around the property, digging up the water and plumbing lines. Joey didn’t know which set of rotting pipes he was digging up, and he tried not to think about it. In any case, it’d be better not to damage the pipes any more than they were already chipped and cracked.

The night air clashed with the heat in his chest as he inhaled and exhaled quickly, plunging the shovel into the ground and uprooting heavy clumps of dirt and roots. He wasn’t moving as fast as he could, only fast enough to keep his muscles warm.

He lost himself in the task. There were precious few things that were safe to think about, standing out in the dark. Not his futon at home, or the carpet in Yuugi’s room, or leaning against the softness of Mai’s shoulder in the movie theatre – nor the upcoming workday with the Kaiba brothers, or Keiko’s teasing, or the pork buns at the convenience store. Even the stars in the sky were only distracting. The only way was to zone out completely.

It was half past midnight when Yamada-san interrupted him.

Joey heard a whistle above him, and turned up. He opened and closed his eyes rapidly. His sight had adjusted staring at the dark ground – broken pavement and black soil – and the sudden assault of even the dim moonlight blinded him temporarily.

When his eyes adjusted, Yamada-san was standing over him, up from where Joey was a metre down in the ditch he’d dug, and smiling.

“So, Joey~” he trilled. “Bettcha you’re glad I set you up with this job after all.”

Yamada-san was small man, with a baby face on him – although Joey knew he was pushing fifty if he wasn’t there already. He looked so unthreatening, and his personality was so cheerful, it had once been hard to believe he was the overseer of a veritable legion of temp workers. Joey had resisted the urge to laugh in his face back in middle school, and was glad for it now, because Yamada-san had set him up with his job at the hospital, the recycling company, and that one start-up, and gotten him dozens and dozens of construction jobs on the side. It was not good to be on the bad side of someone with connections.

“Glad? Not even a little,” Joey retorted. He took his shovel and plunged it into the ground in front of him. He rested his hands and his chins on the top of the handle. “Got nicer places to be spendin’ my nights.”

“That so?” Yamada-san asked carelessly.

_Oh, god. He hadn’t noticed it while he was digging but, now that he was standing still, Joey’s back and arms were sore as hell. He wished Yamada-san would hurry and do what he had to do and say what he had to say, and let Joey get back to work. So long as he was busy he didn’t have to feel any of it._

Yamada-san shrugged. “Ah, well,” he lamented on Joey’s behalf, “not every night can be date night.”

“Speak for yourself.” Joey clicked his tongue. “Just cuz you haven’t had any pussy in a decade that you didn’t pay upfront for~”

He grinned though, and Yamada-san took it in good humour.

“Alright, alright, hotshot,” he agreed. “You’ve made your point. If working with me is such an imposition, I don’t have to call the next time I’ve got something in the works.”

“Aww, you know I didn’t mean it, Yamada-san.” Joey exaggerated the pout in his cheeks.

_He’d gotten the message. No more complaints. Not tonight._

“No, no, I think you’re onto something,” Yamada-san persisted. “You’ll just go on your merry way, and I’ll go on mine, along with your wages. No biggie.”

He pretended to walk off, and Joey pretended to chase after him, clamouring up the hole he’d dug. His back seemed extra sore, as he pulled himself up after Yamada-san, but he kept himself from wincing.

“Asshole,” Joey said, without heat. “I’ve been slaving away here all evening. Get back here and pay me!”

Yamada-san laughed as he turned back.

“I dunno, you’ve still got another hour of work out of you,” he said. “Think I can trust you with your pay in advance.”

He met Joey next to the ditch, and Joey sat at its edge. He looked down, to where most of the pipes were peeking out from under the dirt.

He knew it was just Yamada-san messing around, but it felt a little insulting.

“Don’t mess with me,” Joey said. He tried for a sudden realness in his voice. An earnestness and honestly. “You know I’m good for it. I don’t skip out.”

Yamada-san fixed him with a look that blossomed into a wry smile. “Of course I know that Joey. It’s been eight years,” he huffed. “Have a little confidence. I wouldn’t have kept you on if you weren’t a man of your word.”

Joey felt a little bit proud in spite of himself. But also a little annoyed. Yamada-san had chastised him like a kid, and called him a man in the same breath. But the ambivalence disappeared as Yamada-san dug into his overlarge pockets and pulled out an overlarge black pouch.

Joey struggled not to fidget in his seat, in anticipation of the worst.

_God, everything was sore, and he hated this part. Yamada-san always got a kick out of this._

Yamada-san zipped the pouch open, and fanned out a collection of bills in his hand. He flipped them between his fingers, separating them one by one, making a big show of counting through them, and dividing out Joey’s pay, and then recounting. He glanced at Joey intermittently throughout this process, and smiled tauntingly.

Joey tried his best not to pay attention. Poisonous glares, sighs, any reaction at all would only encourage Yamada-san more.

No, that wasn’t _entirely_ right. Actually mugging Yamada-san wouldn’t encourage him. Yamada-san didn’t actually do this in front of workers he suspected might attack him for the money. But, even if you did, you’d only be creating more trouble for yourself. Yamada-san had everyone’s personal information on file – so you’d have the police at your doorstep the next morning. And, even if you successfully talked your way out of things with them, you could forget about getting work from anyone else in Domino.

Yamada-san knew Joey wasn’t going to mug him though. And Joey knew it too.

He tried his best to ignore the tantalising spread of cash in Yamada’s hands. It wasn’t even that hard today. Joey had his job at Kaiba Corp. Yamada-san probably had about fifty thousand yen total in his pouch. And Joey wasn’t fifty thousand yen short of being tossed out of his apartment, or getting kicked out of school, or getting his sister’s medical bills paid.

 _Joey wasn’t_ desperate _. Not_ today _._

“Here you go,” Yamada-san finally replaced the cash in his pouch and zipped it up. He pocketed it, and handed five grubby thousand yen bills to Joey. “That look about right?” he asked.

“Yea-” Joey shrugged unenthusiastically, as he reached up to collect the money in his gloves. Yamada dropped it into his hand early, like it was a dirty handkerchief he was eager to discard.

If anything, Joey really had to admire the skill it took to make getting paid feel like shit.

 


	8. Dirt, Mahjong, part two

Mokuba’s elite high school had cubbies at the back of the classroom, which gave the impression it was really just like any other high school.

Inside the cubby, Mokuba shifted manuals and textbooks side to side, rearranged an umbrella, and stacked worksheets and plastic sheets filled with slides of bio samples, all over a shiny panel of glossed wood that was graffitied with the word _FAG_ in permanent marker.

Joey had taken one look at the word and tried to open the conversation.

 _Being bullied, huh?_ Joey had asked.

Mokuba hadn’t answered. Joey guessed that stating the obvious wasn’t the best way to try and get a response from someone like Mokuba, but he wondered if Mokuba was just embarrassed.

 _Is it true?_ Joey had said, trying to make his voice sound light and curious. _Yanno, it doesn’t matter if it is._

Mokuba had turned away from the cubby, right in the middle of re-rolling up his gym socks. He very slowly set Joey with a look that seemed to communicate all the disdain the world had to offer.

Joey had been forced to step back. Now Joey was glaring at the bodyguard, Tsukuda, who seemed immune to the suggestion that Joey was trying to telepath into his head – that he should be next to engage Mokuba on the subject.

Tsukuda wouldn’t say anything though. And so neither did Joey. It wasn’t until they were walking through the halls that Joey found the pretence to speak again.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” Joey asked, looking back and forth down the hall. Out the window, he could see the school’s athletic field. The courts for tennis and volleyball were full. The track seemed to expanded out to the horizon. And not a single blade of grass seemed to be out of place.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Mokuba asked, with his ever-present air of criticism.

Joey shrugged. But he couldn’t shake the image of a teacher come barrelling out from around a corner and telling him to leave.

“This ain’t exactly my alma mater, you know?” Joey said. “And it’s not like I have a visitors pass either.”

“It’s not Tsukuda’s either.” Mokuba shrugged. “What are you worried about? You’re with a hulking bodyguard and _me_.”

The ‘ _me_ ’ was said with such utter self-importance, Joey couldn’t help but believe it a little.

“Come on – get in!” Mokuba jutting his head towards the door he’d pulled open, at the end of the hall. “It’s not every day the Computer Club leaves the lab free.”

“And why aren’t you a proud member of the Computer Club, eh?” Joey teased. “Like I don’t know you and your brother are total techie nerds.”

Mokuba gave him a poison glare.

“That’s exactly it, isn’t it?” Mokuba snarled. “No matter how good I am with programming, there’s no way I’m going to get better than Seto. Why would I waste my time with a bunch of stupid kids who don’t even know what a VPN is?”

Joey didn’t bother thinking about that too long, when there were other important things to be doing – like playing flash games from that dumb website that Yuugi had shown him, and napping in the reclining spinny chairs.

It was the sixth time the phone had rung, when Joey pulled his attention away from his hypnotic daze.

The room was empty, save for him and the rows of computers. He scooted over in his chair, before finally standing. The ringing had stopped, but Joey went to investigate anyhow.

Mokuba’s phone was lying on a side table, on top of his stack of books and folders. It seemed to have collected far more than six missed calls. There was a record of nearly twenty of them, plus voicemails, all from one person. Mokuba had his brother’s number listed under ‘Seto’ in the contacts, apparently.

Joey picked up the phone, and began to fiddle with it but, unlike his own, this one was passcode locked. He considered the keypad and realised, even if he were able to get the first combination correct, he probably wouldn’t be able to access the voicemails to see what had Kaiba so worked up and bent out of shape.

It was good luck, then, that Kaiba called back again. Joey considered the ringing phone only for a moment, then glanced around the room to make sure he was alone, before flipping the phone up to his ear.

“Yo.”

“Mokuba!” Kaiba shouted over his voice. He seemed to realise who had greeted him belatedly. “Wheeler?” he asked. There was a grimace in his voice. “What are you doing? Put Mokuba on the line!”

“Ah~ Mokuba stepped out,” Joey said. “His phone wouldn’t stop going off, though. And I saw it was you so…” Joey waved his arm to try to communicate the frustration of listening to a phone ring over and over, although Kaiba wouldn’t be able to see it.

For a second there was silence on the other line. Joey wasn’t quite expecting it when Kaiba finally spoke, seething.

“ _Wheeler_. You’re supposed to be _with_ him. You’re supposed to _look after_ him.”

“Hey, we’re at his school!” Joey protested. “What’s the worst that can happen?! Tsukuda’s gotta be with him anyhow~”

Kaiba made a strangled sound on the other end of the line.

Joey sat down in the nearest chair, and clicked on the computer mouse, to bring it out of sleep mode. Between Kaiba and 3D Pinball, there should be enough to keep him entertained.

“What’re you doing racking up these voicemails for anyhow?” Joey asked. “Won’t you see him in person tonight?”

Kaiba just grumbled for a minute, but Joey waited patiently, and eventually Kaiba cracked.

“I get home very late. And he becomes upset when I walk his room in the middle of the night.”

Joey snorted. “Of course he does,” he said. “Teenagers need their space, right?”

It sounded right at least. Joey had always lived in a one room apartment... But his dad was away overnight once or twice a week on a reliable basis, and Joey had been able to take those opportunities to sneak adult videos in the VCR and enjoy some private time. And that wasn’t counting all the times he’d stayed over at Honda’s and Yuugi’s places.

“So do you knock on his door like a normal person, or do you just bust inside?” he teased, well aware of how overbearing Kaiba could be where Mokuba was concerned.

Kaiba grumbled.

“If you go home at a normal hour, you’ll be able to talk to him.”

The irateness of Kaiba’s grumbling increased.

“So what’s got your panties in a knot?” Joey prodded. “What do you need to talk about with Mokuba so bad?”

“Mind your own business, Wheeler,” Kaiba snarled.

“Aw, don’t be like that, moneybags~” Joey teased. “Mokuba should be back in a couple minutes, if you want to wait.”

“Wheeler,” Kaiba seethed, “you are to be _at Mokuba’s side_ all times in the future and-”

“Yeah, yeah~” Joey said dismissively. “So~ Since we’re stuck on the phone with each other, want to tell me about your day? Your dreams? Ambitions?”

It worked like a charm. The call cut out immediately.

Joey laughed. He tossed Mokuba’s phone back on top of the pile of books, and opened the games folder on the computer, feeling in a good mood.

==

It was dark outside, and Joey had seven thousand yen stuffed in his pocket when he got back to his apartment after his last day working with Yamada-san. The entire place had been gutted, and re-patched, and Yamada-san had given him an extra two thousand yen for all his troubles, part of which went towards correcting the fact that Yamada had underpaid him a thousand yen the day before. (It wasn’t worth arguing with people who were tipping you, of course.)

The apartment was empty, as it had been for the last couple of days, but Joey wasn’t going to be bothered by it just yet. If his dad was out playing pachinko, or had somehow scraped together enough money to hire a whore and rent a hotel room for the night – Joey couldn’t care less.

He stumbled out of his shoes and socks, made sure his alarm was set, and tried not to think about making soup and coffee in the morning, even though these thoughts had the sense of warmth and boiling water that made Joey wish he could take a bath.

His futon was laid out already or, rather, not put away from the night before, and he huddled into it shortly after swallowing down the last pork bun he’d dragged home from the convenience store.

It seemed like his head had only just barely touched the pillow when the phone rang.

Joey blinked heavily. His cheek was wet. He ignored it as he grasped around for his phone.

He pulled it up to his face and glanced at the outer screen. It was thirty minutes after midnight, and he didn’t recognise the phone number.

 _If it was work… Kaiba and Yamada-san could both fuck right off_.

But-

Joey glanced up at the couch. It was ominously empty.

Joey smacked the dryness off his lips, and tried not to groan as he pried the phone open.

“Hello,” he said into the line.

==

The parlour was hazy and smoky and glowing with artificial light.

The loud click of tiles, the deep, potent smell of tobacco, the strain on Joey’s back and the headache brought on by sleep deprivation – it felt more real than anything else he’d experienced in months.

Workers frittered away their day wages, the ill-begotten rich slung down stacks of bills and laughed with ugly teeth, and dealers moved cheerfully and confidently and unrelentingly. Joey pulled at his jean jacket and tried to pretend he didn’t feel completely comfortable, as he stepped inside and between the tables.

His eyes scanned the room widely, but he found himself unwilling to look at anyone. He gripped the stack of bills in his pocket, and braced to chase away anyone who came near.

“Joey-kun!” a voice shouted. “Joey-kun!”

Joey turned and blinked. Somebody was approaching him, weaving his way through the room. Joey didn’t recognise him.

“Ah, you’re Joey-kun, right?” the man asked. “You’re the spitting image of Kor- I mean- Delun-san.” He bowed slightly. “I’m Masaru. We talked on the phone.”

Joey didn’t return the bow.

“That right?” Joey asked, as uninterested as he could manage. He didn’t need to familiarise himself with his dad’s latest herd of drinking buddies.

“Your father is over here,” the man said.

He turned and Joey followed him through the room.

“Did you bring the money?” the man asked, facing forward.

It took Joey a moment to remember the man wasn’t facing him, and couldn’t see his shrug.

“Some.”

“Ah~ You did,” the man sighed contentedly.

Joey could see his dad now, collapsed over the counter on the side of the room. He stopped himself from hurrying to his dad’s side, idling behind his guide. He waited until they were mere feet from his father, before stepping forward, past the man. He pressed his hand up to his father’s face.

His breath felt damp, but Joey could feel the inhales and exhales, hard and strong. His father’s eyes were closed, asleep. But the rings under his eyes were stained with redness and tears.

“He’s been like that for a while, Joey-kun,” the man spoke behind him. “I would have sent him to a hotel, but they wouldn’t let him leave without sorting out the conditions of his debt.”

Joey hummed contemplatively.

He pressed a hand to his father’s forehead, and felt the damp, cold sweat. He grabbed his father’s wrist and felt his father’s pulse burst against his fingers.

“I was surprised, given his condition, that he was able to give us a working phone number.”

Joey hummed in agreement. Since everything else seemed to be okay, he pulled his father up, adjusting his jacket and pulling it up over the nape of his neck.

“Yeah, he’s got my number memorised. Down to the very last digit. He could recite it in his sleep.”

“Because he knows you’ll come for him, I’m sure,” his dad’s friend said proudly.

Joey didn’t know what to say to that. He stepped away from his dad, holding his hands out at the ready – making sure his dad was still lying stably against the counter in his drunken state, ready to catch him if he fell.

“Delun-san is so lucky having a son like you,” his dad’s friend beamed. “I thought filial piety was a thing of the past, but I guess I should have expected more from the Chinese~ Confucius isn’t only a memory yet!”

“Ey! Ey!” Joey protested lightly, letting his hands fall. “If I was disrespectful, you’d just blame it on the American side of things~”

This seemed to go over the man’s head. He laughed casually, as if Joey had made some terrific joke.

“Ah, if I called my daughter,” he lamented, “she’d just tell me to go to hell. What kind of daughter does that to her own father?!” he demanded.

Joey frowned. A deep venom and hatred burned in him suddenly.

“Oi, shut the hell up!” he told the man, glaring suddenly. “Sons are one thing, but you should at least have the decency to leave your daughters out of this _crap_!”

_Calling Joey was one thing. But imagine calling Serenity to a place like this?!_

The man looked like he wanted to argue, but he wisely chose to shut his mouth.

Joey ungrit his teeth, and released the tension in his shoulders. His fists.

He hunched over and tried not to bite his lip.

“So what the hell happened? How deep are we under?” he asked.

The man didn’t look like he wanted to answer for a minute, and Joey couldn’t tell if it was because he was no longer in the mood to be helpful, or because it was really that bad, but then he spoke and Joey’s train of thought abruptly halted.

“I’m not sure how much, but I heard it was somewhere close to… eight hundred thousand…”

Joey gaped. He opened his mouth. Then closed it again. His hand slipped off the bills he had in his pocket.

When this man had told him on the phone to bring as much money as he had, Joey flicked through his wallet. He pulled himself up to his knees on the futon, and forced himself to the kitchen. He’d thought his dad might’ve found his newest hiding spot, and used the money to go gambling. But when Joey removed the plastic panelling at the bottom of the freezer, he’d been surprised to find his savings untouched. He gathered the ice cold money in his palm. He’d counted out thirty thousand yen to set aside for rent and subway fare and other necessities, and slapped the rest of his bills in his pocket, along with the money he’d received fresh out of the envelope from Yamada-san.

Altogether, it totalled eighty-seven thousand yen. Only a tenth of what his dad owed, apparently.

“Sh- _Shit_!” Joey said. “What the _hell_ happened?!” he complained.

His dad’s friend was making excuses, but Joey wasn’t listening.

“This is _bullshit_! I had an _agreement_.” Joey clicked his tongue disparagingly. “You can look after my dad for a while, yea-? Or find someone else to make sure he doesn’t wake up and go walking off into more trouble?” Joey nodded firmly, before he could be denied. “I gotta go talk to Kyou-aniki.”

Joey stalked off, back through the room. Behind him, his father’s friend was saying something.

“You can’t walk up and talk to the house admin!”

Joey snorted. Like hell he couldn’t. He wasn’t some green little shit. And even when he had been, it hadn’t stopped him.

The light seemed to peer through, bouncing off panes of glass and the olive green walls to lead him to the back of the room. He sidestepped women in traditional clothing holding sake bottles and trays of beer, without looking at them, and let his eyes settle on the man standing in the open archway to the back room. It was a good ten paces back there, and Joey made sure to look like he belonged, when he strolled past the guard and into the enclave.

The person he was looking for was sitting at a heavy wood table, flipping through receipts, sharing pleasant conversation with the other workers at the task. He had his back towards Joey, and fanned himself with the blank side of a paper flyer.

Joey walked right up behind him. He tapped his foot. He hiked his nose up high, and looked down, looming.

Kyoutarou turned in his seat and looked up at Joey. His expression was dispassionate, but he couldn’t hide the flash of light in his eyes.

Joey scowled, trying to look intimidating. They met each other’s eyes for a moment, in complete silence, before the corner of Joey’s mouth began to climb up in spite of himself, and a gasp of air escaped his nose in humour.

_They both knew it was a joke._

Kyoutarou’s face bloomed into a smile, at the same moment that Joey’s did.

“Wheeler-san!” Kyoutarou rose and clasped Joey’s forearm and shook it in greeting. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Oh, cut the crap, aniki,” Joey snorted, as he shook Kyoutarou’s arm in return. “You let that poor sonnovabitch get himself into trouble and you know it~” He pulled his face into a slightly more solemn expression for a moment. “You know we had a deal, aniki,” he scolded playfully. “He only spends what he brings to the table. No letting him borrow out money he doesn’t have.”

“Ah, were those are terms?” Kyoutarou whined. “It’s been a while, so I’ve forgotten.”

Joey shook his head, mocking Kyoutarou’s faux forgetfulness. “Aniki…”

“Ah, ah~ I kid,” Kyoutarou chuckled. He sat back down in his seat, and retrieved his cigarette from the side of his ashtray. “I remember our deal, Wheeler-san, but your father came in with a huge lump sum of cash this evening. I guess we just lost track of how much he’d spent, by the time we checked the books.”

Kyoutarou shrugged carelessly. He inhaled deeply from his cigarette, and dangled it carelessly from his lips.

Joey snorted. He covered his disbelief with a smile.

“Figures~” he said. “The second that old man strikes the jackpot – first thing he does is come here and lose it all over again~” Joey sighed deeply, and let his shoulders curl down for dramatic effect.

Kyoutarou hummed in agreement.

“Still~” Joey prompted. “I don’t see why your inability to keep track of your books means holding me and my dad to this debt.” He blinked heavily. “We _did_ have a deal, Kyou-aniki.”

Kyoutarou shrugged again.

“Even _if_ -” Kyoutarou paused for dramatic effect. “Even if my group should have been paying better attention to what he was doing, if a man puts down the house’s money of his own accord, should he not take responsibility for doing so?”

Joey didn’t think it was a coincidence, the way Kyoutarou stretched his arms and back. Joey caught a glimpse of vibrant blue patterns dancing on Kyoutarou’s skin, just below his neckline.

It was hard not to roll his eyes, but the point was valid.

“Of course, aniki,” Joey said. “I just don’t think _you_ ’re without responsibility either.”

Kyoutarou hummed contemplatively, and looked up at Joey.

Joey held his ground. He was aware he was in a room surrounded, but you couldn’t get anywhere without the confidence to budge the truth.

“How much does he owe you?” Joey said.

Kyoutarou signalled to the others, somebody walked up and passed him the records. He studied the entries. “Jounouchi – eight hundred and ninety-two thousand yen,” he announced.

Joey resisted the urge to curse. He breathed deeply in through his nose.

“I think you should cover two-thirds of it,” Joey decided. He was sliding his fingers across the bills in his pocket again.

Kyoutarou snorted.

“I’ve got some money with me,” Joey said. He tapped the bills and removed his hand from his pocket. He left his fist open, so Kyoutarou could see he had nothing. “It’s not much… But I’ll put that money down for a game. If I win, you shave two-thirds off the debt. If you win, you can take the cash, and I’ll pay you back. We’ll have to work out loan terms either way… But I’m good for it – you know me.”

There was a long moment, during which Joey’s suggestion went over like a lead balloon. He could hear the snickers, but refused to acknowledge the other people sitting at Kyoutarou’s table. He let his eyes refocus, to the worn tatami on the floor. A peeling corner of paper on the wall.

“What makes you think I’d agree to those terms?” Kyoutarou seemed disinterested.

Joey forced his eyes to refocus. He forced a sternness into his features. “We had a _deal_ ,” he stressed. “You already _lost_ , aniki. You owe me this mu-”

“I don’t think I owe you anything,” Kyoutarou interrupted firmly.

Joey gaped. His face reddened.

_All he wanted was to kick something. Kick Kyoutarou’s goddamn face in._

“You know, Wheeler-san,” Kyoutarou smiled. “You really shouldn’t be calling me ‘aniki’. Seeing as you’re not part of the group and all.”

Joey huffed. He smiled wryly. “What?” he challenged. “Ain’t we kinda like family?” he asked.

“Not _enough_ like family.” Kyoutarou lifted his head appraisingly.

For a second, Joey was speechless. Then-

“You can’t be serious!” He bent his torso down and laughed. _Kyoutarou was suggesting Joey join up with his group._ “Whaddaya want me for?!”

“Oh, c’mon,” Kyoutarou laughed. “I like you. You like _everyone_ … And you know your way around – have seen enough of the business from the fringes. Not to mention you’ve got a famously mean uppercut.” Kyoutarou puffed on his cigarette. “You’d be great as a dealer. Or a great bodyguard. Can do anything really.”

“Aw, you flatterer, aniki~” Joey beamed. “But I’m booked up right now. Got more people clamouring for my expert services than ever before. You should’ve seen Yamada-san begging me for help earlier this week. Not to mention Ka-”

Joey cut himself off. The last thing he needed was Kyoutarou knowing he had ties in Kaiba Corp. He imagined the yakuza banging down Kaiba’s door. And then, worse, Kaiba Corp thugs banging down the yakuza’s door.

“I’ve actually got a halfway decent gig right now,” Joey decided. “Nothin’ like my tournament gig, before that went belly-up, but-” Joey shrugged sheepishly. “Thanks but no thanks, Kyou-san.”

Kyoutarou smiled. “Listen, it wasn’t a job offer,” he said, “it was my terms.”

Joey blinked. He was again aware of how smoky the room was. How there were figures all around to block his exit – stifling.

“I don’t follow,” he admitted.

Kyoutarou nodded, and continued to explain.

“Two-thirds is trash – scrap that. We’ll play a single match. We’ll put down half of the money towards your debt. You’ll put down the money you brought, plus your commitment to work with us to pay off your debt if you lose – you’ve got nothing else to offer as collateral. Those are my terms, if you’re interested in avoiding our famous interest rates.”

Joey didn’t so much consider the offer as become overcome by it. Standing there, he had no way of knowing if it was a favourable deal or not. He tried to run through the different variables in his mind – the near nine hundred thousand yen of borrowed money his dad had played and lost, the amount of money he could make off of a day’s labour, the turbulence of a neverending string of part-time jobs, the game he’d once played and won to wheedle promises out of Kyoutarou that he knew would be broken. _Lies. History. Debt._ He had no way of measuring how much any of it was worth. But he suspected it wasn’t much.

And Kyoutarou’s bodyguards had accumulated around the room. Kyoutarou didn’t have to make any concessions to Joey at all if he didn’t want to. It would be stupid to pretend that wasn’t worth something.

“Yea-, okay,” Joey said easily. “You got it. Let’s play.”

==

There was nothing interesting in this set. But the next group of four revealed an empty white tile. And the next group – two more.

_Tofu tiles~_

Joey couldn’t help but snicker to himself, as he arranged the tiles together on his side of the card table.

_Getting dealt three white dragons right from the get-go. Kaiba would be jealous~_

“Good hand?” one of Kyoutarou’s goons smiled at him from the right.

“Eh~ You could say that,” Joey beamed. He reclined in his seat and laced his hands behind his head. He tapped his foot, as if impatient for the first discard.

In reality the rest of his hand was pretty crappy. In addition to the white dragons, Joey had been lucky enough to snag a tile of his own wind – west – but a second wind tile – north – did not match it. And the rest of the tiles were suits, but with only one relation between them – a two and four of circles, which could be used to make a sequence if he was fortunate enough to get a three in the same suit.

He struggled not to frown. Joey usually wouldn’t bother with sequences, which were not worth the same amount of points as three-of-a-kind. But this was not a normal game where points would be tallied and money redistributed on that basis. He had to go out as soon as possible, before everyone else could, to sneak out of repaying his father’s debt.

Kyoutarou was dealing, so he threw out the first tile. Joey had missed the window to call for it, but it was a five character – nothing he wanted anyway. Nor did he want the next discard.

He drew a seven bamboo from the wall, and slid it between a five and eight in his hand. He threw out a two character.

He was feeling jittery, bouncing in his seat, all through the next turn, so he was happy when the man on his right spoke.

“You and Kyoutarou-aniki seem close…” he prompted.

“Aww, do we?” Joey said. He scratched his chin sheepishly. He supposed close was one way of putting it.

“It’s not often Kyoutarou-aniki gets drawn into hosting a match himself. He’s even dealing for you – you should be grateful.”

The goon to Joey’s left called for Kyoutarou’s discard, and revealed three of a kind – a pong of nine of circles.

“Oh, I am. Definitely. Very grateful. For sure,” Joey assured, as he reached to draw from the wall. He couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

He’d drawn a second west wind, and tried his best not to beam at the tile. He contemplated briefly, before throwing out his north wind.

“You don’t have to flatter me like that,” Kyoutarou said. “I’ve known you since you were-”

His gesture – one that was communicating Joey’s former diminutive height – was cut short as he drew his next tile.

“I don’t think we were formally introduced until… I was in high school?” Joey contemplated, scratching the side of his face.

Kyoutarou nodded contemplatively, still looking at his tiles. “Your father’s quite the recognisable face. Best spoken gaijin I’ve ever met. He’s got a talent for languages, doesn’t he?”

The goon to Joey’s right called for the discarded tile.

“Ah, it sure seems like it,” Joey pouted.

His dad had once regaled him and Serenity with tales of travelling back and forth through New Guiana, Vietnam, the Eastern Coast of China, and Taiwan – before settling down with their mom in Japan. He’d taunt them with words in Mandarin and Min and English, and laugh happily instead of correcting their mispronunciations.

_The Salt Lake in his father’s stories was nothing like the America Joey had seen from Pegasus’s Tower. It was nothing like the America Joey had seen speeding on a train to Florida after Mai. It was nothing like the America Anzu had struggled to communicate to him – struggled to find a point and a use for all her extra hours in cram school – English filtered through a pristine white cloth thrown back at Joey in small, summarised bits of Japanese._

Joey wouldn’t be jealous of all the things his father knew that he didn’t. The English Language could go fuck itself anyhow – with its exaggerated _Pleeeease_ and _Thank youuuu_.

“Well, mahjong – luck – it’s a great equaliser is what it is,” Kyoutarou said, as he drew another tile. “No matter how much his face stands out, no matter how smooth his Japanese is. That gaijin’s exactly like the rest that walk through the parlour door. He has dreams – just like anybody, and he’s willing to put everything on the line to see them through – just like anybody. If all he does is throw his day wages on the table like any other piece of trash, why should we pay him any special attention? Him or his tiny brat of a son?”

“Oi!” Joey protested. “That’s still my father you’re talking about!” He glared down at the discarded tiles. _Taking cheap shots at the old man was a privilege that Joey had a monopoly on._

“And quit skipping over my turn!” Joey added sharply.

The player on his right called for a second discard, intercepting Joey’s turn again. He revealed a three, four, and five of circles.

Kyoutarou laughed, as he moved to draw again. “I was just saying that a man has to make a reputation for himself. Nobody was going to look at you just for being the son of a gambler, no matter how well-spoken or exotic. And you _did_ make a reputation for yourself.”

Joey’s face flushed. If it was in pride or in frustration, he wasn’t sure. He tapped his foot on the floor. He hated how Kyoutarou made him feel gratified. It reminded him of Yuugi’s confidence, and hands at Duel Monsters. It was enough to make him forget that that pride and gratitude would only carry you so long as you were winning.

“Ah, Chow!” Joey called. He reached over to pluck Kyoutarou’s six bamboo out of the discard pile. He hesitated for a second, before deciding to go with the six-seven-eight sequence, and discard the five bamboo. “See how you like having your turns skipped~”

On the very next play, a west wind was discarded, and Joey was able to call for it. He grinned relentlessly, as he revealed the three-of-a-kind to the others. With that move, he had over half his hand compiled.

_Which one to throw out though? He should discard his seven circle – but would it be better to get rid of his disconnected honour tiles sooner rather than later?_

Kyoutarou shook his head. He smiled at his goons. “See, Jounouchi the younger is really something in his own right. When I first heard about him, he just seemed like a common street thug with an uncommonly good right hook. But look at how he’s convinced all of you of his bad fortune, before calling for two tiles in a row, one of which has allowed him a pong of his own wind.” Kyoutarou paused to call for Jou’s discarded nine character – Jou cursed his bad luck – before continuing. “In actuality, Wheeler-san is a true sportsman! With a true affinity for games!”

“True sportsman?” Joey huffed disbelievingly. “A true _duellist_ is more like it!” he crossed his arms over his chest and preened, while the goon to the left of him took his turn.

“You had a good run there for a while,” Kyoutarou agreed. “It’s not everyday somebody from the gambling parlour strikes it big in professional gaming. I remember – the excitement when you placed first in that Duel Monsters tournament in Osaka!”

Joey drew a two circle this time, which meant he either needed a three circle to make a sequence with the four circle, or another two circle for three-of-a-kind.

“Heh~ Thanks, aniki.” Joey grinned.

His seven circle was discarded.

“Too bad nothing lasts forever,” Kyoutarou said wistfully.

“Yea-” Joey sighed, still smiling. “But, hey, it’s not like nothing good came out of it~ I still owe you one, Kyou-aniki, for helping me negotiate outta my dad’s mortgage loan.”

It had been a lot of begging, a lot of favours, and a lot of payments straight off of the success of Joey’s duelling career. The money from the Osaka tournament – weeks of stress and travel and deck modifications and sponsorship deals – all disappeared into negating the debt left from some long-since-foreclosed-on property in the quiet of the Domino suburbs. Joey hadn’t lived there since he was six years old, but he remembered the address from where it was scattered over contracts and loan agreements over a decade later. The monstrous unfairness, his dad’s drinking, Joey’s own anger – they’d all been the product of the debt and the loan sharks and people like _Kyoutarou_.

And yet- If Kyoutarou hadn’t gone to bat on his side… If Kyoutarou hadn’t convinced the loan sharks to lower their interest rates and accept a few delayed lump sum payments… Joey would still be making payments for 749-172 Taitou-ku, Domino-chou.

“You’ll make it up to me someday,” Kyoutarou assured. “Perhaps someday soon, depending on how this game goes.”

It was Joey’s turn again, and Kyoutarou gestured for him to draw.

The tile was of no consequence – another six bamboo. Joey threw it into the discard pile as soon as he recognised what it was.

Joey shrugged. This game of mahjong was hardly of consequence anyhow. It was just a holding pattern. Kyoutarou was right – there was no way Joey was getting out of making things up to him. Joey had paid off his father’s housing loan, hadn’t he? And, somehow, they were still in debt, his father still drank, and Joey was still angry. And somehow he always ended up back here anyhow, didn’t he? Gambling parlours and alleyways and abandoned warehouses that felt like home.

Joey hardly paid attention as the time for his turn circled back around.

He drew a red dragon from the wall this time, and smiled. The Red Eyes Black Dragon was Rex’s card first but somehow, in taking it from him, it became a thing that was only Joey’s, no matter how many hands it had gone through. Although he had no other reason to prefer it, he set the red dragon tile down in his hand, and threw his one bamboo into the discard pile instead, noting it was not decorated with a peafowl.

The next turn, the goon to his right called his hand ready – one tile away from the win.

Joey shuffled in his seat.

What had sounded inconsequential in theory, seemed a lot less pretty the closer it lingered.

It had been nine long years running away from this. And Joey thought those nine years were worth something in of themself. The times he’d spent at Honda’s house, and at Yuugi’s. Attending Domino High, flipping skirts, and acing his PE classes if nothing else. Travelling across the ocean to Duellist Kingdom and meeting Mai and winning the money to pay for Serenity’s surgery. Floating up to the sky in the Kaiba Corp blimp. And duelling in a huge stadium with a cheering crowd. These were experiences and memories that would stay with him forever – a reminder that, if only for a little while, he had been more than his roots. He could return home a hero.

But was he really okay with that being the end of it? Had that been what Honda had dragged him out of the alley and taken him up to the second floor of the autoshop for? He’d smashed a damp cloth against Joey’s face to wipe the blood away from his nose, and slammed half a dozen textbooks and the application for the Domino High admittance test on Joey’s lap, and argued with him for half an hour. Had that only been in service of delaying the inevitable? And what about Joey? Had that been the spirit in which he’d asked Honda to drag him away in the first place?

It wasn’t even worth asking so far as Yuugi went. He knew who he had to be, when Yuugi stood in front of Ushio and said that Joey wasn’t a bully, but a precious friend. And Yuugi was a damn fool who said that about everyone, even Kaiba. And Joey had hated Yuugi vehemently in that moment, because Yuugi’s grasp on reality was shaky at best, but it had an infectious quality that had borne a terrible desire inside Joey.

In that moment, he wished he could have torn down the whole world and remade it again in Yuugi’s eyes – and that meant not going back, no matter how much homesickness raged in him like nausea.

Home had a name. A trip of the tongue in four syllables.

Joey cleared his throat.

Kyoutarou was drawing again.

“Hey, uh,” Joey began, “whatever happened to Hirutani?”

Kyoutarou was considering his hand. “Who?” he asked, absently.

Joey felt his body, still humming from the sound of the name.

“Hey~ Don’t play that game with me, man~” Joey grinned. “He was a nobody. But you damn well know who that nobody was. He ran the whole goddamn Grocer’s District when he was in middle school. And he was skimming big bucks off your protection fees in high school. You don’t forget an asshole like that.”

Kyoutarou tossed out a seven character. He declared his hand ready, before returning to Joey’s line of inquiry.

“Yeah, him? ‘ _What happened to him?_ ’ you ask. You mean before or after you threw him off a building and landed him in the hospital?”

The goon to Joey’s left picked up a tile.

“‘Ey, you know what I mean,” Joey insisted. “You told me he was doing time in Fuchuu the last I asked. So I wanna know what happened after that~”

A three character was added to the discard pile, and Joey reached for another tile, gaze still fixed on Kyoutarou, searching his face for answers.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Kyoutarou confirmed. “That was almost two years ago, when he served a year over in Fuchuu.”

“Shit? Was it that long ago?” Joey asked. “It’s been that long?”

“Yup. Almost two years. He got out early, though. After that, we put him on a deal down in Laos. He had fun with that one. We saw him back safely into the country.”

“Yeah?” Joey asked. He turned his tile over in his hand. It was a two circle, which meant he had three of a kind.

“Yeah,” Kyoutarou said. “And no one’s seen him since.”

“You tellin’ me he went back on the straight and narrow?” Joey huffed bitterly. “My hand’s ready,” he announced, hand dancing between the four circle and red dragon.

“No,” Kyoutarou said firmly. “That’s not what I’m tellin’ you.” Joey watched with creeping dread as Kyoutarou’s shoulders picked up carelessly, and fell. “I guess it’s possible he survived, and boarded himself up in some shack in the sticks. But I doubt it.”

Joey let his tile drop in the pile. He realised belatedly he’d thrown out the wrong one. If he kept the four circle, he could’ve drawn either a three or four circle to call mahjong. Keeping the red dragon meant the only tile he could win with was another red dragon. He couldn’t find the energy to try and scramble to cover his mistake, before the next draw.

“…Oh,” Joey said heavily. Trying not to imagine how, exactly, Hirutani had been left for dead.

 _Stupid bastard deserves everything he gets,_ Joey tried to remind himself.

It wasn’t working. His mind conjured up the images a little too easily. Screams and gunshots from the next street over, and the remains of a police investigation the following morning… a rare occurrence that was still not rare enough. He had seen someone get stabbed in the stomach once. He had seen somebody drop the knife and run. He’d walked past those things, like they were nothing. And he’d turned to the person walking beside him, and Hirutani would shake his head derisively, like it was nothing. And, for a little while it left Joey feeling brave. It was nothing that could touch them.

_Hirutani… We promised, man. We promised we’d be better than that – work our way up in the ranks. We promised that we’d be the ones working the deals and calling the shots and sitting cosy in the Inagawa-kai and Yamaguchi-gumi penthouses._

The thug to Joey’s left called his hand ready. They were all one tile away from a complete hand. Luckily nobody called for the tile he discarded.

 _Shit- Shit!_ Joey’s eyes scanned the discard pile frantically. There was already one red dragon sitting there. That meant only two more were in play.

He held his breathing as steady as he could, and blinked away the wetness collecting in the corner of his eyes. He couldn’t appear afraid, although he felt convinced he wasn’t fooling anyone.

Kyoutarou was drawing with a pleased expression on his face. When he threw out, Joey barely registered the tile. Only that it wasn’t a red dragon, and the game continued as the next thug drew.

_Hirutani- We promised we’d make it._

_We promised we wouldn’t bleed out over cement._

What was it like to be dead? To be dead, and have nobody remember you? Nobody worries for you. Nobody talks about you. Nobody asks for you. Nobody except for some asshole playing mahjong. And, even then, he can’t be bothered to bring you up more than once a year.

 _We promised we wouldn’t die on the streets, like_ dogs _._

And Joey would have liked to think he was cleverer than Hirutani. Cleverer than Yuugi and Honda and Anzu and Mai and Kaiba. That he’d make it where they wouldn’t have been able to. But that wasn’t how it was. He wasn’t any better than any of them. He wasn’t smarter or more clever or more ruthless or more lucky… You were _born_ into the Yakuza family top ranks. Or you allowed them to take you in on the fringes, where you slaved and worked and died.

There was only one way that story could end.

“It’s your turn, Wheeler-san,” Kyoutarou said.

“Y-Yeah,” Joey agreed, although he felt unsure of what to do. This was probably the last move he could make. The last action he could take, before he was inevitably sentenced. He wasn’t sure how he’d make it through the next run around the table, with everyone drawing and scrambling for their final tile.

With nothing left, he reached to draw from the wall.

_I’m so sorry, man. I’m sorry, Hirutani. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you._

But that was the other thing. You couldn’t save people if you were Joey. You had to be someone like Yuugi to make that kind of impact. And, even then, Joey wasn’t sure. Yuugi had tried to save him, after all. And here he was – one mahjong tile away from losing everything he’d worked towards.

He flipped the tile over in his hand. It wasn’t the red dragon, so it took a moment for Joey’s eyes to focus, and realise exactly what he was seeing.

“K-Kong!” Joey called. He set the three leftmost tiles in his hand face-down on the table, and flipped the tile he just drew upwards over them.

It was the elusive fourth _white dragon_. The one that should have been ripped up and lost. But here it was: In Sugoroku’s game shop. In Joey’s mahjong hand.

It was ludicrous, but calming. Somehow, what had already been destroyed continued to persist.

Joey couldn’t even explain, but somehow he found himself sitting in his chair and the card table, and he could breathe again.

“Well…” Kyoutarou said, impatiently. “Are you going to take your extra draw?” He gestured to the dead wall, where the final untouchable tiles sat, at the end of the line.

You had to see things through to the last draw. The last turn. The last life point. At that moment, it didn’t seem to Joey like an act of courage – it seemed the only human thing to do. It was only right to see if the tile was a red dragon, or else the winning tile for somebody else.

_I’m so sorry, Hirutani. You asshole. You deserved better than that. We promised. Both of us promised._

_…Don’t give up on me._

Joey reached forward to break the tile from the dead wall.

 _Atem…_ he prayed. _Don’t you have any magic left for your good friend, Joey Wheeler?_

He drew.

==

“C’mon, dad.” Joey hoisted his father’s arm over his shoulder. “Let’s head home.”

Jounouchi senior grumbled. His eyes seemed relatively lucid as he blinked sideways at Joey, coming out of his slumber.

“You’re just too lucky for your own good, Wheeler-san~” Kyoutarou shook his head, disparagingly. He grinned as he handed Joey a copy of the I.O.U. – four hundred forty-six thousand yen, to be paid in a little over two weeks. Joey had signed and fingerprinted the contract himself, and watched them tear up the one his dad had made.

Joey picked up the I.O.U. into his hand and stuffed it in his pocket.

Kyoutarou crossed his arms into his sleeves. “But your luck will run out one of these days,” he said cheerfully.

“Yea-” Joey agreed. A small smile was pulling at the side of his mouth. “But until then, thanks for looking out for me, Kyou-aniki.” He hoisted his dad up higher onto his shoulder.  He stood up tall. “I still owe ya one.”

Kyoutarou shrugged. “You’ll make it up to me eventually.”

“Yea-” Joey sighed slightly. He pulled his dad closer to him, steadied his feet on the floor. “But until then I don’t wanna see your ugly mug for a while,” he huffed. “Remember our deal! I don’t care how he begs – don’t let dad gamble away money he doesn’t have!” He narrowed his eyes, in mockery of a threat.

“Sure,” Kyoutarou waved him off. “I’m sure my memory will hold for a while,” he laughed. “Get outta here, Wheeler-san! Doesn’t a hotshot duellist like you have better places to be?”

Kyoutarou turned and walked off, before he got an answer.

The sickening smell of oversweet coffee. The texture of white stringy carpet. The clang of auto parts. Purple painted fingernails digging into his skin.

“Yea-” Joey whispered under his breath. He inhaled the smoke of the mahjong parlour again. “Better places…”

His father grumbled sleepy nonsense into his ear, on the way to the door.

The weight on Joey’s shoulder was heavy, and he found himself irritated with the burden on his way to the door. He pressed his hand into his father’s bloated stomach, and felt the flesh give under his hands a little too easily. His father’s stubble scratched coarsely against the shoulder of Joey’s jacket – and the sound was quiet against the bustle of the parlour, but Joey felt the hairs on his arms and neck pique in alarm.

Again Joey was circling through the mahjong parlour, weaving across the room. But, where the patrons had ignored Joey on his way in, they turned excited to his father on the way out.

“ _Heading out for the night?_ ”

“ _Looking good, Delun-chan! See you next week!_ ”

His dad smiled. “Yup,” he agreed dreamily. “See you~”

“ _Aw, you and your son are so sweet, Koro-chan~_ ”

“ _It was great playing alongside you, Koro-chan!_ ”

His dad laughed and waved off the compliments bashfully.

“ _Take care of yourself, Koro-chan!_ ”

_Koro-chan~ Koro-chan~_

Joey grit his teeth, and fought down the boil in his blood.

One man walked up and clasped his dad on the right shoulder.

He ignored Joey entirely, and Joey wasn’t sure whether to be angry or grateful for it.

“Koro-chan, I still owe you a drink sometime!” the man proclaimed. “I haven’t forgotten that you spotted me that one time!”

“Aw, haw~ It was nothing.” Jounouchi senior waved this off. “What’s a drink between a couple of friends, yeah? I’m just happy to know a great guy like you, Manabe-san~”

The friend beamed. “But still~” he protested. “I’ll return the favour. Next time.”

“Next time~ Next time~” Jounouchi senior laughed. He didn’t seem to realise the way Joey was trying to pull him ahead to exit the parlour with increasing ardour. “Always next time, huh? Heh~” He grinned widely.

“When you’re sober enough to stand on your own two feet, eh, Chankoro-chan~” his dad’s friend laughed. “It’s been a pleasure as always! Have a good night!”

Joey pulled his father through the threshold, and out into the hall. He walked down the corridor, and hauled his father back up into the alleyway outside.

His father spent a while waving behind him at the friends he had left.

And then it was only him and Joey.

Joey huffed. The glow of the moon and the streetlights cast shadows all around them, and it was a small comfort that nobody was around to pick a fight. Joey squinted down at the cracks and tremors in the asphalt and concrete, and weaved around them. He directed his father’s steps, and adjusted him against his side.

Jounouchi senior was still stumbling and, freed from the interior of the gambling parlour and the eyes of onlookers, he let Joey hoist him up onto his back. Joey gripped his thighs tightly, and hunched over so his dad could lean against his shoulder.

His father gripped Joey’s biceps tightly. And Joey carried him out of the alley and onto the sidewalk proper, a good hundred steps.

They were making quick progress when-

“They’re good guys,” his father said into his ear. Belatedly. A little defensively. “Everyone has hard times, but they’re good guys~ They look on after me when I get a little…”

His father trailed off. He shrugged against Joey’s shoulder.

Joey had been focussing intently on the weight and the pressure and preciseness of his steps. On the moon and the crisscross of phone lines above him. On the warm heartbeat in his chest and cool air on his cheeks. He didn’t want to consider how many rounds of mahjong and drinks his dad had spotted his fellow gamblers for. He didn’t want to consider how many times they’d dug through his father’s pockets, for the money to set him up at a hotel for the night, to set him up lying drowsy against a pachinko machine. He didn’t want to consider what kind of whispered conversations they had, about lost houses and families and dreams – not unlike the conversations Joey had with Yuugi.

There was one thing he couldn’t help but consider.

“I can’t believe you let them call you that,” Joey spat, disgusted. He pressed his foot hard into the concrete, and jogged for a few paces.

His father hummed so sweetly, as he raised and fell slowly in pace with Joey’s gait. It made Joey’s ears prickle.

“They don’t mean anything by it~” Jounouchi senior said. “They’re good people~” He laughed. “They like meeee. They look after meeee.” he trilled happily.

The moonlight glinted off a manhole, and caught in Joey’s eye. The empty street was a long, one-way corridor.

“If they gave a shit about you, they wouldn’t let you get like this!” Joey retorted venomously. “You guys’ll drink and laugh. You’ll do them favours and shit. But where the _fuck_ are they when you need them?! Nah, they’re in a rush to call me the _second_ shit gets serious!”

Jounouchi senior sighed. “Joey~ Joey~” He groaned and, as if making a herculean effort, lifted himself up on Joey’s back to smash his cheek against his son’s neck. “You can’t expect that much from others,” he whined. “Isn’t being pleasant company enough?”

“Doesn’t seem so _fucking_ pleasant to me!” Joey snarled. “Do you know how much I put on the line to bail you out tonight?!” he demanded. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to put aside school fees, and deck upgrades, and _my life_ to help you out of whatever fucked up situation you’ve gotten yourself into?! And here you are talking about how great your goddamn ‘friends’ are?!”

“Like you’re any better~” Joey heard his father click his tongue. “I’ve seen how you are with those Japanese friends of yours. I’m not the one who applied for a school out of my price range, so I could suck up to a bunch of prep school kids, in the hopes they’d take pity on me and hand out whatever scraps they had to spare.”

Joey remembered how he’d been brought to tears and burning resentment, when Yuugi and Honda had presented him with his airline ticket to Egypt. _They’d wanted him to be there. They’d wanted_ him _._

“ _I-_ ”

Joey raged. He began again.

“ _I_ am not the one spending time in a gambling parlour letting people call me _chink_!” he screamed.

The words seemed to reverberate through the world unevenly. They echoed off the buildings, streaming back to him.

Joey heard the words. And he couldn’t deny them. But he felt ashamed.

Jounouchi senior hung his head. His forehead butted against Joey’s shoulder. The nothingness left in the wake of the fading echo felt heavier than anything.

_Oh, geez. What was he doing? Arguing with an old drunkard. Yelling. Taking any of this seriously._

Joey couldn’t find anything to say, but he gripped his father’s legs tighter, in a way he hoped was comforting. He tried his best to ignore his father’s trembling form, and pulled them both forward. The street was so cracked it seemed cobbled.

He focussed on it so intently on it, he didn’t realise when his father’s stopped shaking. He missed the way his father extended his legs slightly, and his torso pulled back. He missed the fist that was braced and lifted.

_Bam!_

Joey staggered sideways, struggling to hold onto his father legs, which were now flailing. He stepped instinctively to regain his balance.

Pain had erupted against his forehead, just in front of his ear, where the fist had boxed flat against the bone. The vision in his left eye blurred. And when it focussed, Joey was no longer seeing the same landscape.

 _Oh,_ hell _to the fuck_ no _!_

His dad was struggling blindly, but Joey’s head was clear with sobriety. And Joey was stronger besides. He caught his dad under his shoulder, flipped him up over his head, and slammed him down to the ground. There was an ominous clack as Jounouchi senior’s back met the concrete, and his belt clattered against the asphalt.

“You son of a _bitch_!” Joey snarled. He collapsed down, straddling his father’s chest. Jounouchi senior was kicking, and flailing his arms, but Joey couldn’t see past the dark and the red in their eyes. He gnashed his teeth. When his father’s arms whipped up and around, trying to find a way through to strike his son, Joey caught them with angry precision, knocking them away faster than they could strike.

 _You goddamn son of a bitch,_ Joey breathed through his teeth. His back curled in, so he was glaring directly down into his father’s face. He’d pinned down one of his father’s arms with his right hand. And he raised his other fist, before swiping it down at his father’s jaw. His father flailed turning his head up and away, and the blow landed on the underside of his father’s neck instead. Jounouchi senior wheezed and coughed, curling in on himself. Joey’s knuckles burned as they made contact.

_Son of a bitch._

Joey lifted his arm up again. It had been a weak blow. Joey turned his torso into it this time. His fist slammed down and met against jaw and gum and teeth. His right hand had slipped away from his father’s arm. It was holding his head in place now. His palm spread over his father’s nose, and his index and ring fingers prodded into the corners of his father’s eyes, threatening to blind him if he made a wrong move.

He stopped when he felt the tears welling up under his fingers.

Joey blinked. He exhaled deeply. Inhaled again. His father had extended his arm up completely, and pressed the hard base of his palm up under Joey’s chin. It stung a little. Joey was surprised he hadn’t felt it before.

Two fully extended arms. Their hands were holding each other’s faces at an arm’s length. Joey’s left arm was lifted up, a fist ready to be brought down. Jounouchi senior had covered his own face with his right hand. His gums were bleeding. The blood pooled around the edges of canines and molars, thankfully still sitting in his mouth intact.

“Joey,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whimpered.

The tears were bubbling up, spilling from Jounouchi senior’s tear ducts, up against the pressure of Joey’s warning fingers.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jounouchi senior was saying.

Joey’s arm went lax. His fist unravelled in his hand. Tears were starting to spill from his eyes too.

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” Joey said. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry too.”

His father didn’t seem to hear him. When Joey drew his hands away and scooted up off his father’s chest, his father pulled away and covered his eyes with both hands.

“I’m sorry, Joey. I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” Joey could hear himself blubbering. He lifted an arm and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. “It’s fine.”

Joey eased himself back onto his feet. He stepped over his father.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Joey tried not to snap. He let out a shuddering breath, and wiped the tears out of his eyes again.

He bent down, and pulled his father up by the shoulders. He allowed his father the dignity of keeping his face covered.

“I’m sorry,” Jounouchi senior whispered.

“‘S fine.” Joey sniffled. He clasped his father’s shoulder, and held him. He watched the shuffle of the fabric, and shuffle of shoes on the asphalt. Everything felt submerged. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

==

The tension that seemed to hold everything at a hair’s distance throughout the week had subsided. Leaving behind a sunny haze of exhaustion.

It was Saturday afternoon – the start of Joey’s weekend. Two days of freedom before he had to see the Kaiba brothers again.

The paycheck he’d been expecting from Kaiba Corp would have to go directly to paying off his father’s gambling debt, and he wouldn’t be able to save up that money for treating Mai, but there was a sense of relief in that. And he’d bought himself time before he had to think about how to rent a limo or walk into a jewellery store. He’d bought himself time before his father’s next outburst. Before Kyoutarou decided to push the boundaries of their gambling treaty. Before he had to remember Hirutani again. Before Yamada-san could call in another favour for construction work. Before things had to change irrevocably.

Life was good~ Joey stretched his arms, as he reported his departure to Satou-chan.

He’d spent the early part of the day in the mailroom. And later he’d gone to pick up Mokuba, who had called him an idiot two times, but who had also stolen glances at the black and blue patch next to his eye and offered him a chocolate cornet wrapped in plastic – no strings attached.

“Kaiba-sama said he wanted to see you before you left for the day,” Satou-chan told him.

And Joey stepped easily into Kaiba’s office.

Kaiba was on the phone, and didn’t look at Joey as he entered. But Joey didn’t mind for once.

Joey closed his eyes. He stuck his hands in his pockets, directing them around the jacket that was tied to his waist.

Sun was streaming into the office, past the Blue Eyes statue. The days were getting longer. Summer was approaching at a snail’s pace, but the signs of it were blossoming everywhere.

Joey didn’t hear the click as Kaiba hung up the phone, but he heard his name.

“Wheeler.”

When he opened his eyes again, Kaiba wasn’t looking at him. He was looking down at his desk, but beckoning Joey forward with an arm.

Kaiba shuffled papers as Joey approached. He slid files over the top of desk, and looked beneath them, as if critiquing the glossy surface of the hard wood.

Joey watched as Kaiba pulled open one of his desk drawers. He didn’t feel impatient and he didn’t know why.

“Before you leave-” Kaiba said.

He pulled out a small slip of paper, held together by a paperclip, and tossed it across his desk.

He motioned for Joey to take it.

Joey blinked at it. He drew his hand out of his pocket, brushing the fringe of his white t-shirt.

He picked up the paper and unclipped it. It was some kind of receipt, folded around a thousand yen bill. He squinted at it, trying to piece it together quicker than his mind was willing to.

Joey looked at Kaiba questioningly.

“Your returns, Wheeler,” Kaiba answered without hesitation. “For the lottery scratcher you passed over to me.”

Joey studied the bill. It was crisp, brand new.

He couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around what Kaiba was saying.

“Kaiba… I bought that lottery scratcher with your money,” he explained.

“I’ve already instructed Satou to deduct the cost of the original ticket from your salary,” Kaiba said.

Joey rubbed his fingers against the smooth paper of the bill.

“Yeah, but I still gave it to you,” Joey protested. Somehow he was being shaken unpleasantly from of his haze. “Because it was wrong of me to try and use your money like that,” he explained.

Kaiba didn’t seem to care enough to respond to that. He shrugged and turned his attention down to a folder on his desk. He occupied himself with flipping through it, and Joey couldn’t tell if he was actually reading it, or just trying to end the conversation.

“The winnings are yours, Kaiba,” Joey said, a little more forcefully. He held out the bill and waved it in Kaiba’s face. Not close enough to obstruct his view of his paperwork though.

Kaiba sighed, and slammed the folder shut anyhow.

“Wheeler, it was your own dumb luck that you chose a ticket that was worth anything at all, so-”

“Luck I gave to _you_!” Joey said.

It was stupid. They were arguing about a thousand yen – barely enough for a meal at Burger World. And it wasn’t even an argument, really. There was hardly enough weight to what they were saying to give it any animosity.

But Joey felt his cheeks flush suddenly. Something about this declaration felt intimately revealing.

And the weird part was that Kaiba seemed to notice it too. He looked up and, when he met Joey’s eyes, there was the slightest hint of disarmment, and surprise.

Kaiba refused to sit in it for long.

“You know what, Wheeler?” Kaiba turned to his computer screen this time. “It’s one thousand yen. I really don’t care either way.”

Kaiba’s fingers clacked against his computer keyboard.

Joey was still holding the bill. He could have dropped it on Kaiba’s desk and walked out, but he didn’t.

Joey huffed. “But you cared enough to tell Satou-chan to deduct the cost from my salary. You cared enough to reveal the numbers on the scratcher. You cared enough to go back and cash it at the store.”

This caused Joey pause.

“D-Did you go to the store yourself to cash it?” he asked, thrown off.

_Hadn’t that been one of the reasons he’d taken this job at Kaiba Corp? So Kaiba wouldn’t be bothered with running errands at the convenience store himself?_

He felt the sharp sting of failure, and the heady rush of triumph.

When Kaiba met his eyes this time, his face was as red as Joey’s.

He didn’t answer the question.

“I run a gaming company. I like games, Wheeler,” Kaiba said, slowly, as if he was annoyed at having to explain something so obvious. “This-” he waved in the general direction of the receipt and the paperclip, “-is a game… Not one I’d ever have thought to play by myself.”

He crossed his arms and sank back in his office chair. His eyes weren’t closed all the way, but they were enough so that Joey couldn’t see him.

“I guess it was a little… _fun_ ,” Kaiba admitted.

It was ludicrous. And yet it made perfect sense. The sun fell a little in the sky throwing the room into greater shadow. And yet everything was still bright and gorgeous.

“Alright, then,” Joey said. And he pocketed the thousand yen.

But something about this disquieted Joey far after he’d left Kaiba’s office and exited the building. He walked to the metro stop, and caught the train, as usual. But, along the way, he kept reaching into his pocket to thumb the edge of the bill.

It raked sharp across his finger, and gave him a papercut. He felt the sting and the burden of significance. But, for the life of him, Joey couldn’t figure out what it meant.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Chankoro-chan”. Which was shortened here to Koro-chan in a strangely affectionate manner. Chankoro is a derogatory Japanese term for Chinese people. I have no idea how dated this term is (probably pretty dated if I can find information in English about it online) but this fic is set circa 2002, and Joey’s dad and his buds are an extra generation removed from that. And Joey’s dad is actually half Chinese-American and half white American, but what’s the accurate usage of racial slurs between friends, amirite? *murdered in my sleep*
> 
> Joey’s dad actually goes by a number of names, but 城德倫 Chéng Délún is the other one mentioned in this chapter. 城 Chéng is the maiden name of Joey’s paternal grandmother, and you might recognise the character as being the first character in his Japanese surname, 城之内 Jounouchi.
> 
> Anyhow, sorry for the wait, but- Next chapter is date night.


	9. Shoe, Persimmon

You weren’t supposed to look up at the ceiling.

If you did, you’d see where the industrial ceiling tiles were dirtied and cracked at the corners. You’d see where the mineral fibre ran thin and frayed. And you’d start to wonder when the rooms above the market on the first floor would come crashing down through to put an end to the whole charade.

Joey looked at the ceiling anyhow. He squinted where the florescent lights reflected blindingly off the white.

Some housewife bumped into him, and Joey bristled. He gripped the handles of his shopping basket, and turned to glare at her. She gave him a dirty look back, reached over him to grab an item from the fridge, and kept walking.

 _Well, yeah… He was getting in the way_. _Shit or get off the pot._

He looked back down at the display and frowned. The cool blast of the refrigerator was no comfort. The meat was just as expensive as it had been a moment ago, and it looked just as unappetising.

 _Now was not the time for extravagance,_ Joey reminded himself. He had budgeted things out. It was better to play it safe than sorry, given the money he owed Kyoutarou. He had only put three thousand five hundred yen in his pocket, and whatever food he bought with it would have to last him most of the way through the week.

Joey picked up a packet of discount pork and considered the amount of fat that was globed onto the edge of the pieces.

 _Fuck! He was_ hungry _! And not for some shitty discount pork that was more lard than meat!_

He tossed the packet back in the basin and grumbled to himself. He was thankful to Mokuba for always providing lunch, on the one hand, but he was starting to wonder if all the fancy food was turning him into an insufferable snob, one who could no longer appreciate the simple things in life.

He looked through the other discount packages, before giving up on the pork entirely. He’d make curry gravy to pour over rice completely plain if he had to.

He moved back to look over the fish once again. Mackerel was pretty cheap. He tossed a pack into his basket, next to a bag of rice, a pack of eggs, a couple cans of tuna, a few fat carrots, and S&B curry roux. He had pickled plums at home. He was resigned to eating a lot of tuna onigiri and plain rice hinomaru bentou.

Though his eyes still grazed longingly over the shining rows of red meat, laid delicately over grass green plastic film, as he passed by on his way back towards the front of the store. He couldn’t stop his eyes from zoning in on precisely the cut of meat that he truly wanted.

There was a single packet of marbled beef at the very end of the row. Cut thin like paper. It was magnificent. And it cost eight thousand yen for three hundred grams.

There was nobody here who could afford that kind of thing on a regular basis, but the management liked to keep a packet of it out for the rare few. Those who would be celebrating a birthday, or a promotion, or a homecoming, and could indulge themselves in the temporary luxury of overpriced meat in their shabu-shabu. Keep the dream alive.

Joey picked it up. It might be enough just to feel the weight of it in his hands. It was light – _only 300g of course_ – but Joey still marvelled at its ethereal and fleeting nature.

 _Just holding it in his hand was_ not _enough._

He considered it a moment longer. Even if he couldn’t afford it, _somebody_ should purchase and enjoy this meat before it spoiled.

Joey considered a moment. It felt too early to actually put the meat in his shopping basket, but he somehow felt weary about placing it back down on the market display. _What if some housewife came by and snatched it away?_ He knew it was ridiculous, but he balanced the meat protectively on the crook of his arm anyway – the one that held his shopping basket – before digging into his pocket with his other hand.

His wallet was there. And so was the Kaiba Corp credit card. Despite his earlier fumble with the lottery scratcher, Satou-chan had persisted in sending him out to purchase goods for the company, and Joey had behaved himself, and Satou-chan had stopped collecting the card back from him once he’d brought in the purchases. It was, in practice, _his_ company card. And it was in the front-most slot of his wallet, just where he’d last left it. Where he should have expected it to be.

Joey closed the wallet, and slid it back into his pocket. He retrieved the marbled beef, from where it sat on his elbow, and considered it a moment longer.

Then he rattled his shopping basket sideways, throwing all the items inside to one corner, and slid the beef in sideways across the centre of the basket. The plastic wrapped foam tray the beef was set on formed a perfect partition, between what was his and what was not.

==

The meat curled in little rivulets on the frying pan, and the edges sparked a crispy, shiny brown.

Joey moved them around the pan with his chopsticks, before allowing himself to close his eyes. He inhaled the smell of the meat and salted oil, and sighed with something like contentedness.

It was an engrossing task.

Joey’s eyes were fixed firmly on the pan. He didn’t turn when his father approached and leaned against his shoulder. Joey only leaned back against him, and continued flipping the meat around the pan with his chopsticks.

For a half a minute, they only stood there. There was bread in the oven, and lettuce rinsed next to the sink.

Joey glanced sideways at his dad. His lip was still purple and red and swollen from where Joey had split it the other day.

Joey tilted his head away, to hide where his own eye was still faintly bruised.

He didn’t care to be combative. At least not until his dad reached an index finger and thumb forward to steal a slice of meat from the pan.

“Hey, hands off!” Joey commanded. He batted his father’s hands away with his chopsticks, and moved the beef over on the skillet. “For you – there’s rice over there in the rice cooker. And I already set out some mackerel.” He waved his father over to the left.

Jounouchi senior whimpered pitifully.

“You can’t even share a little bit of steak with your own father?!” he whined.

“It’s not mine to share!” Joey bit out.

Neither was a whole section of the top row of the fridge. Fancy sandwich rolls. Fresh unwilted green lettuce. A packet of mild cheese to melt easily over the meat. And a jar where he’d inexpertly mixed some kimchi and mayonnaise for a sauce. It was partitioned off from the rest of the fridge with a loose wrap of painter’s tape. _Caution! Do not touch!_ was scribbled along the face. Like yellow tape at a crime scene.

“It’s for work.”

 _My boss never eats unless he’s force-fed,_ would seem both ludicrous and oddly revealing.

“I’m making it for someone at work.” Joey opted instead for vagueness.

Jounouchi senior seemed to process this for a minute. He looked back and forth between the steak, and his son’s firm expression.

Then he grinned widely.

“Eh, heh~ Homemade lunches, huh?” he asked.

“Huh?” Joey’s brow wrinkled.

His father giggled and slapped Joey on the shoulder. Before pulling him into a hug. Before talking conspiratorially into his ear.

“Listen, you shouldn’t do too much for women,” his father warned. “You’ll get further if you play it cool.”

“Huh?” Joey repeated.

Jounouchi senior sighed. “But, then again, with the tail you’re getting, I guess you hardly need your old man’s advice.”

This was not something that Joey wanted to consider for too long. He supposed it was possible his dad at least had an idea of Mai’s existence, but that was a fire he preferred not to fan. Mai had a corvette and a body like dynamite, and Joey didn’t need his dad getting any wise ideas about either of those things.

“Hehe,” Joey’s dad laughed. “You’re a chip off the old block, huh? Don’t break too many hearts, stud.” He ruffled Joey’s hair and walked off to help himself to the rice and mackerel.

Joey waited, until his dad left the kitchen, to shiver and fix his hair.

He got the sandwich rolls from the oven. The cheese, the lettuce, the sauce. He dished out the meat inside of them, and wrapped them up. He had enough meat for three sandwiches – although the final one was a bit skimpier than the others.

The empty pan was greasy from having cooked the meat, and Joey eyed it suspiciously.

He hadn’t allowed himself to try any of the meat but, surreptitiously, like he was getting away with something, he felt to make sure the pan wasn’t too hot. He ran his finger through the beef residue and canola oil coating it, and licked his finger clean.

 _Shit, it really was top quality_ , Joey realised. Once more, he glanced suspiciously to the sides, before taking a heaping pile of rice from the rice cooker, and slamming it to fry in the pan.

==

“All the files predating the latest turn of the century,” Kaiba said. “Satou will know what needs to be scanned, and what just needs to be shredded. Don’t overwhelm her.”

Having finished giving these instructions, Kaiba didn’t seem particularly interested in following what Joey was doing. Joey took a moment to lean back on his heels and press his back against the back of Kaiba’s armchair. Kaiba leaned against the opposite side, and tapped his fingers against his computer keyboard.

Joey reached for the handle on the nearest filing cabinet, and pulled it open under the safe haven of the Blue Eyes statue outside the glass wall.

He pulled the first file, ten centimetres up, so it peeked out over the top of the drawer, and began to flip through it. It was a yellowing old thing, and he wasn’t able to register much more, before he dropped the file, instinctively, and pulled his hand away before the drawer smashed shut on it.

Kaiba had stood in an instant. His palm was pressed flat on the front of the filing cabinet drawer.

His eyes narrowed on Joey.

“I told you to start with the second column of drawers! These-” Kaiba slammed the toe of his boot against the bottom drawer, which rung at a deep, vibrating pitch. “These are private,” he hissed.

Kaiba’s eyes held Joey’s only a second, before he returned to his seat in his chair, and continued typing.

Joey opened the next drawer over. He started at the back of the drawer and worked his way up to the front. He barely looked at the text on the documents as he scanned them for dates. And he tossed the ones for Satou-chan lazily on top of the cabinet.

Kaiba was drinking his syrup-like coffee, seeing to his phone correspondence, and typing on the computer. The last time Joey had looked his way, Kaiba’s eyes were rattling between the artefacts on his desk and the computer screen at high speed. His hands flipped pages. He was absorbed in work and not what he was putting in his mouth.

And Joey was starting to think he was going to get away with this when a minute later-

“Wheeler, where did this sandwich come from?”

Joey breathed to keep his shoulders from tensing. With an affected ease, he stacked a couple more folders on top of the cabinet for Satou-chan, before spinning casually on his heel.

Kaiba’s pupils were no longer flashing across his desk. They were focussed on a singular point. He held the partly-eaten sandwich out accusingly in one hand. The kimchi-mayonnaise oozed accusatorily at Joey.

Joey blinked.

“Er, Mokuba showed me this one place. Some fancy… _European_ -” he decided, “-deli.”

This was a fairly good bet so far as what to say. Mokuba had promised to back Joey up on the issue of his brother’s meals, and the associated costs thereof.

“It seems homemade.” Kaiba said these words in a decidedly neutral tone, careful and measured. So that if Joey got defensive it could only be taken as proof of his guilt.

“Yeah, well, you know how these places are.” Joey waved his hand and hoped it accurately communicated some shared factor between fancy-ass delis. “You know, only the freshest ingredients. Prepared to order on the spot. Trying to imitate that homey, just-like-mom-used-to-make style...”

“Hn.”

Kaiba’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He allowed himself to take an overlarge bite of the sandwich. His mouth chewed in a circular pattern, and he glared at Joey the entire time.

“It’s good,” he said, as if he found this highly offensive.

Joey couldn’t help but let the corner of his mouth rise with sardonic pride. He crossed his arms and leaned forward a bit, to loom over Kaiba.

“Yeah, Kaiba. That’s usually how those places are – _good_ ,” he mocked.

“Hn.” Kaiba seemed to almost growl. He glared venomously and ridiculously with his mouth around the sandwich.

Joey broke eye contact first. He slapped another file on top of his pile – not even caring if it was for the right dates. He collected them, and refused to acknowledge Kaiba’s eyes on him as he walked them out to Satou-chan.

“Delivery,” he said as he dropped them on Satou-chan’s deck.

Satou-chan had taken the lid off her coffee cup, and blew the steam off of it. She frowned curtly at the collection of work Joey had so kindly delivered to her.

Joey walked back into Kaiba’s office. The door had been left open.

Kaiba had returned to not looking at him. And Joey resolved to work slower collecting the next batch of folders – so Satou-chan wouldn’t be too upset. He let his fingers linger over the manila edges of the file folders. He batted the little index labels back and forth with his index finger – and memorised the curved strokes of permanent marker that made up the letters and numbers.

The foil that had once held the sandwich was balled up in the trash.

“Um, Kaiba, can I ask you a question about work?” Joey interrupted the silence, as he finished with the first of six filing cabinets.

“Hn?” Kaiba grunted as he flipped through a diagram, which was about as much of an invitation as Joey expected or needed.

“Does the company take time off for Golden Week? Am I gonna be coming in over vacation?”

For a minute Kaiba only grumbled, but then he collapsed back in his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest, and his right foot over his left knee.

“You tell me, Wheeler,” Kaiba began in a bored voice. “Does the general public of Japan stop going to amusement parks, watching movies, playing games, or otherwise pursuing leisure activities during a week that almost everybody has off from work and school?” His tone had turned decidedly sarcastic and mocking by this point. “Would it be at all wise for Kaiba Corporation to shut its offices during one of the busiest times a year for the entertainment industry?”

Joey reached up and scratched the back of his head. “Um… no?”

“Then there’s your answer,” Kaiba snarled. “I don’t want to hear another complaint from your whiney self.”

“Whatever you say, tight ass.” Joey made a point of sighing.

Kaiba went back to his work, satisfied.

Joey snickered to himself as he turned back to the files. It was better anyway. His debt to Kyoutarou would be eating up so much of his salary, it was good to be on schedule to try and regain some of that loss.

 _It was really too easy,_ Joey thought, _to let Kaiba believe he had the upper hand._

Kaiba kicked him out of his office when he had to leave for his meetings. And Satou got him started on shredding and scanning the documents she had pulled out of the files. But it was a several day project, done lazily between Satou-chan’s other work, and Joey’s commitment to picking up Mokuba after school. So he was in and out of Kaiba’s office over the next few days – collecting the folders, and eventually transporting the ones Satou-chan had decided were to be retained back into their respective places in the cabinets. Which required a lot more paying attention to which files were which, and where they belonged in the great puzzle that was Kaiba Corp’s organisation, than Joey had given when he pulled them out of the cabinets.

So, when Joey discovered himself the bearer of an unusual honour – being privy to the phone conversation that rattled through Kaiba’s office at nine-thirty that one morning – he assumed it was just a coincidence. Seeing as he was spending far too much time in Kaiba’s office space nowadays.

That there might be other possibilities didn’t occur to him until far later.

Either way, the word ‘responsibility’ shot out in Kaiba’s voice, in the middle of the conversation, and Joey’s ears piqued defensively at the sound, and then he was drawn in.

Kaiba’s brow was furrowed, as he spoke into the speaker.

“It is your _responsibility_ , as the Kaiba Corp vice president, to be present for the premiere.”

The vice president’s voice was quieter, harder to hear from this side of the telephone line. But it must have been getting louder, because Joey _could_ hear him, when he listened closely.

“It’s funny how I only have responsibilities whenever it suits you. I don’t see you deferring to the company handbook whenever I try to take on responsibilities you don’t want me interfering with.”

“This isn’t a joke, Mokuba,” Kaiba pressed on. “This is an important part of Kaiba Corp’s current business strategy. It is an important event, where we need to present ourselves as a strong and unified team.”

Mokuba’s response was too quiet for Joey to hear. Kaiba wrapped his finger in the edge of a sheet of white printer paper on his desk.

“Then reschedule,” Kaiba said.

“No!” Mokuba said. “ _You_ reschedule!”

“Mokuba, it’s a Golden Week premiere,” Kaiba said. The tone of voice was familiar to Joey. It was the understated, mocking you-should-know-better voice. “I can’t reschedule a nation-wide movie premiere, one that is crucial for the company, on your _whims_.”

“No,” Mokuba agreed. “But you can and _did_ schedule the event on a day that you knew was important to me. One that I _told_ you in advance I would be busy on, and was having a friend over for.”

Kaiba’s expression flared up. His right hand gripped the arm of his chair until it was white.

“What do you want me to say?” Kaiba demanded. “That I _want_ you at the event? That I _need_ you? Want me to _beg_?”

His voice was laden heavy with bitter, venomous sarcasm. Almost as heavy as it was laden with miserable, sincere desperation.

“ _No!_ ” Mokuba shouted back. “Because if you _wanted_ me at this event, if you _needed_ me at this event, you would have scheduled it for some time other than the _one day a year_ I have other plans!” Mokuba huffed bitterly. “And – you know what? – I think you did it on _purpose_!”

Kaiba snorted, like an angry bull.

“This is baseless paranoia.”

Mokuba barely paused.

“Oh, because _you_ ’d know the difference between paranoia and a completely reasonable suspicion, Seto,” Mokuba snarled.

Kaiba looked livid. But, between the harsh angry lines that formed on his face, Joey saw something different.

Kaiba was afraid. Kaiba was haunted. Kaiba was _guilty_.

Mokuba could not see his brother’s face though, from across the phone, so he capitalised on his brother’s silence.

“One day!” Mokuba was shouting. “One day, out of three hundred and sixty five and a quarter days in the _whole year_ that’s important to _me_! One day that’s not about _you_!” Mokuba laughed harshly. “But of course you can’t stand that, can you, nii-sama? And that I might have a friend that’s willing to spend it honouring something that’s important to me, is just a step too far, isn’t it?”

Kaiba’s lip wrinkled, and the hand holding the phone did not look at all steady. And Joey wasn’t going to listen to any more of this.

Having dropped his stack of files and folders on top of the file cabinets, Joey slunk around behind Kaiba’s chair. He slouched over the top of it, the collar of his shirt brushing the hair on the top of Kaiba’s head, and snatched for the phone in Kaiba’s hands.

Joey couldn’t see Kaiba’s reaction, but although his grip tightened as Joey pried the phone from him, he didn’t stop Joey from taking it either.

Joey eased back, smiling smugly as he sauntered out to the side of Kaiba’s desk. He brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey- Hey-!” Joey said, barking over Mokuba’s rant. “Yea- Mokie? This is Joey.”

Mokuba’s tirade stopped.

Mokuba coughed. He cleared his throat and harrumphed, bringing himself to silence.

For a second, the room was blissfully silent, before Joey pressed forward carelessly.

“Listen~” Joey flicked his finger against the antennae on the phone console. “Maybe you should cut your brother some slack, hey?”

Mokuba huffed impatiently. “Jounouchi, you don’t know what you’re getting in the middle of, so why don’t you-”

“Oh, c’mon, Mokie,” Joey prompted. He leaned to sit against Kaiba’s desk and crossed his legs. “I may not know much. But I do know, whatever problems you guys are having, you love your brother and-”

Joey couldn’t get another word out.

“ _Tell_ him _that_!” Mokuba screamed into the line.

Joey cringed and held the phone away from his ear.

Something had gone wrong. He swivelled around to look at Kaiba.

Their eyes met, but Kaiba’s were inscrutable. They turned to Joey, dead and expressionless. Kaiba’s mouth was hidden, where he’d propped his head up against crossed fingers.

The phone seemed to rattle in Joey’s hand. Even at the distance, Mokuba’s voice came through loud and clear.

“ _Tell_ nii-sama _that_! _It’s not me_ _that needs to hear it_! _I_ love _him_! _I’d do_ anything _– go up against the_ entire world _for his sake_!”

It was unpleasant. Mokuba’s voice washed around him – a wave about to collapse.

“ _I love my brother_! _I already know that_! _It’s_ him _that won’t fucking_ _believe me – no matter what I do_! _It’s him_ _that keeps on trying to get me to jump through hoops to try and prove it to him_!”

Mokuba’s voice was breaking. Gasping for breath. Holding back the tremor of watery hiccups.

“ _I love him_! _I’d do anything if it’d help him_! _It’s him that doesn’t believe_ _me_!”

The call cut out with a harsh click. Joey grimaced. His ears were still ringing.

Kaiba’s office was quiet and bright and white. The door out to Satou-chan’s reception desk, and the lounge, were closer. The room seemed to hum in the silence left after the storm.

Joey replaced the phone against its stand on Kaiba’s desk.

“I guess he was kinda angry,” he laughed anxiously. “Huh, Kaiba?”

Kaiba’s eyes met his briefly, before looking away again. He was still wearing the same inscrutable expression he had been a moment ago. His hands were covering his mouth.

And then slowly, his eyes drooped and collapsed shut. He dropped his head into his hands – let them over his eyes as he rubbed at his forehead.

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled.

Kaiba had not spoken loudly enough to warrant a response, but Joey wasn’t about to sit in awkward silence as Kaiba became uncomfortably emotional.

“Do what, moneybags?” Joey prompted. He kept babbling instead of waiting for an answer. “Fight with Mokuba? We all have fights with our families and the people we care about. You get over it. Pick yourself up. Move on. Joke. Make breakfast.”

Kaiba grumbled angrily. “We – Mokuba and I – don’t have fights,” he hissed.

_Well, it kinda sounds like you do._

Joey let it be. When Kaiba didn’t say anything, he returned to the folders and the file cabinets, and reading their labels without really reading them.

Kaiba didn’t move as Joey continued working. Joey rearranged the NIS-91 project folders into the drawers. He double checked the folders around it - trying to determine if he had returned it to the right place.

And then Kaiba spoke again.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this without Mokuba,” he croaked. “I don’t want to go…”

He seemed to eat the last words as they fell from his mouth.

Joey was, once again, aware that Kaiba wasn’t speaking to him. But it seemed wrong to ignore him all the same.

“What?” Joey asked. “You don’t want to go to… the movie premiere?” He snorted. “What? Scared of watching a big, bad movie all by yourself? It can’t be _that_ bad, Kaiba.”

If it was a misunderstanding, it was a misunderstanding that Kaiba was willing to run with.

He dropped his hands from his face and sank back in his chair.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Spoken exactly like a no-nothing idiot,” Kaiba said.

It didn’t have the usual heat to it, but Joey was glad Kaiba was starting to sound more like himself again.

“This is a _business event_ , Wheeler,” he continued. “It’s not going to see a movie. It’s about connections and image and making sure this endeavour will be a success on the marketplace.”

Joey felt his annoyance pique. Just a touch.

Which was a good thing. It was something he could actually use when talking to Kaiba.

“Yea-? And why would I know about any of that crap?” Joey challenged. “I’ve never been to one of these shindigs. What would I know about _connections_ or _marketing_?” he jeered.

“You wouldn’t know,” Kaiba agreed, deflecting snippily. “It’s Mokuba that knows. It’s Mokuba that always goes to these things with me.”

Joey grumbled in agreement.

The silence dragged out again, but Joey was starting to think imbetween the pauses as he shuffled folders around Kaiba’s filing cabinets.

“Hey, you know what, Kaiba?!”

Kaiba didn’t say anything. He turned warily to Joey.

“You should take me to your movie premiere since you’ve got an empty plus-one spot and all!” he announced.

Kaiba’s eyes glossed over like the dead. He crossed his arms over on his chest, and frowned.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s a great idea!” Joey defended. He relocated himself to the front of Kaiba’s desk, so he could make his pitch in form. “You say it’s not all fun and games like I think. You say I’m talking out my ass about this whole movie event thing. Well, take me along and show me what it’s all about~”

 _Take me along and you won’t have to go alone_ , was the real threat.

Kaiba shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He pursed his lips.

He did not call Joey’s bluff, but he did go off in an entirely different direction.

“Hn, it seems like it might give the wrong impression,” he admitted. He waited another moment before elaborating. “This is the type of event that you’d usually attend with a significant other.”

Joey blinked.

Kaiba groaned and pulled at his bangs. “A _date_ , Wheeler,” he clarified.

Joey huffed. “I’m not that goddamn stupid, Kaiba. But you just told me you usually attend with Mokuba so, unless you’re telling me Mokuba is your ‘ _significant other_ ’…”

Kaiba looked downright murderous.

“Wheeler, if you _ever_ make such an insinuation again, I’ll-”

Joey talked over him. “…Then I don’t see what the problem with taking me is,” he finished.

There was another moment of silence.

“Hn,” Kaiba grunted noncommittally. He rested his elbows on the top of his desk, interlaced his fingers, and rested his chin on his hands. His eyebrow twitched, and he glared down at Joey’s knees and the carpeted floor behind them.

Joey snorted. “I’m just saying… _I’m_ not gay. And _you’re_ not gay-”

One of Kaiba’s elbows slipped out from under him.

“-so I don’t know what you’re worried about,” Joey concluded soundly. “It’s not a date. So nobody’s gonna think it is.”

Kaiba had caught himself, before his torso hit the desk. He leaned back in his chair and considered this, blank faced.

“Nobody’s going to think that?” he muttered to himself. “No. No, you’re right. They wouldn’t… Wouldn’t dare… It doesn’t mean anything, so there’s nothing for them to read into…”

“Exactly!” Joey agreed. Unsure why Kaiba had chosen this point to perseverate on. “Nothing to worry about.”

Kaiba still seemed unsure. He was scratching the back of his hand idly, and his face was still tense.

As Kaiba sat there silently, it occurred to Joey that he might rapidly be losing the traction he’d gained in this argument, and his place at the movie premiere with it.

“I- I know-” Joey announced in one last bid to secure himself the ticket. “I can be your personal secretary for the event!”

This had its intended effect. Joey could almost see, as Kaiba immediately stopped thinking, and instead focused his eyes on Joey with a mix of scepticism and distaste.

“Yeah!” Joey crowed, smiling brightly. “I’ll come and take notes for you – on the movie and the other guests and everything. It’ll be like a job. After all, who knows when you’ll need someone around to do menial tasks and run for energy drinks.”

Slowly the scepticism wore away, and something approximating relief seemed to break out over Kaiba’s face.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” Kaiba allowed. “You’d be there simply in a professional capacity.”

“Yea-” Joey agreed.

“Yes, professional,” Kaiba reassured again. “Hn,” he closed his eyes and considered for a moment.

When he opened them, he had a plan.

“Your shift will be moved to coincide with the time of the event on Saturday Evening. You will arrive at fifteen o’clock, dressed appropriately in formal wear, and will accompany me as my secretary for the evening. You will speak to Satou about this aberration in your schedule.”

And then he waved his arm in a way that communicated Joey was dismissed – only halfway done with filing or not.

==

“Hehehe~” Joey cackled on the phone to Anzu. “And that’s how I scored a seat at the world premiere of _The Return of Banja: the Robot Dragon of Eons Lost_.”

Joey did a karate kick and struck a pose. Just to express his excitement.

“Well… I guess it’s good that you’re having fun…” Anzu said through the phone, in a tone that suggested anything but.

“Damn straight!” Joey cheered into the receiver. He tossed his shoes down in the sink.

..

“And that’s how I scored a seat at the world premiere of _The Return of Banja: the Robot Dragon of Eons Lost_.”

“Hey, man, what I tell you about running all your dumbass Kaiba problems by me?”

Blanket whined from where she was lying on Joey’s torso. She licked softly at his hand, as he scratched the underside of her chin.

“I wasn’t talking to you, was I?!” Joey snapped back. “I was talking to Blanky, wasn’t I?”

Honda finished up under the hood of the car. He walked over to where Blanket and Joey were lying on the couch, on the opposite end of the garage. He slouched over the back of the couch, and ran a hand, slick with machine grease, through both Blanket’s fur and Joey’s hair.

“You’re so full of shit, Jou~” he snickered.

..

“And that’s how I scored a seat at the world premiere of _The Return of Banja: the Robot Dragon of Eons Lost_.”

Yuugi was packing things into a big black duffel bag nearly as big as he was. He considered a pair of hair brushes, and set one in the bag, and another on his bed. He considered a pair of scrunchies as well, before throwing one in his bag, and using the other to wrangle his hair in a stiff ponytail.

He was spending Golden Week on a camping trip with the rest of his college department. It was apparently an important “bonding exercise”. Because spending days on end going to school together and droning on about the history of ideas wasn’t enough of a bonding exercise, apparently.

But even Joey couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about it, with _Banja_ on the horizon.

“I’m really glad you and Kaiba-kun are getting along,” Yuugi’s eyes shone bright and excited. “It would be really great if all three of us could meet up sometime.”

Yuugi stalled, almost imperceptibly.

“I mean… I’m relieved Kaiba-kun’s talking to you,” he explained. “But I’d really like to catch back up with him too, after five years… Maybe we can get everyone from high school back together! Bakura-kun and the others too!”

Joey didn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic. Yuugi’s opinion of Kaiba had always been a bit… warm… for Joey’s tastes. Not to mention Kaiba was kind of, well, Kaiba-ish. He looked like hell, and was prone to pitching fits like a little kid. He might be kind of embarrassed to meet up with the others who had actually spent the last five years growing up. _He should be._

“Yeah. Maybe,” Joey said. He grinned. “But lemme tell you how _awesome_ Golden Week’s gonna be!”

..

_“What’s with you today?” Mai laughed suddenly, in the middle of their conversation._

_“Huh?” Joey was on the metro, going home. He had his arm wrapped around a handrail, curled back to hold the phone to his face. And he wobbled, double stepped playfully, as the train accelerated forward. “What do you mean?”_

_“I just mean you seem really_ happy _.” Mai’s voice sounded almost sultry. “Anything in particular happen?”_

_Joey leveraged his weight against the handrail, and leaned back into an unsuspecting passenger, who huffed in annoyance._

_“Er- Nah, not really.” He was aware he wasn’t exactly being convincing. “I guess it just must be that talking to you makes me happy.” Joey let his face fall into a lazy grin. He was proud of that one._

_Two days until Saturday._

_“You’re just a hopeless flatterer, Joey.” Mai tisked in a way that said she wasn’t fooled. But she seemed pleased anyhow._

==

“Satou-sempai, don’t you think Joey-kun is being favoured too much?” Keiko picked up a piece of fried chicken skin. She held it by two points, triangular between her thumb and index finger, and examined it sceptically as she sipped at the edge of her glass – sake and oolong.

Satou-chan smiled inscrutably. “I don’t really think it’s my place to judge Kaiba-sama’s business decisions.” She sipped at her beer. “Or Kaiba-sama’s personal decisions.”

“Oh, come on,” Keiko huffed. “Don’t act like you’re above it. I was only saying what everyone else was already thinking!”

Miyoshi and Mami sat silently, eyes glancing intent between the different members of the party. They didn’t confirm or deny.

But the real betrayal was Satou-chan, who only hummed ponderously to herself as she took another draught of beer.

“Mean. Mean. You guys are mean!” Joey pouted. “Accusing me of sucking up…” He made an overwrought display of sulking into his drink. He’d only made it halfway through his first glass.

“If the shoe fits, Joey-kun,” Keiko said wryly.

“Now, now,” Miyoshi smiled. “It’s kind of to be expected, isn’t it? They’ve known each other since high school. That kind of connection should be worth something in a professional environment, right?”

“Ne-po-tism,” Keiko said. “That’s nepotism.”

“An old boy’s club…?” Mami blinked through her intoxication. “I wish I could invite my friends to movie premieres… Satou-san, do you like movies?”

Satou-chan shrugged. She twirled a bit of calamari around her finger.

“Maybe I’ll go see Banja-san on my day off,” she said. “It’s not the usual type of genre I’d go for, but it’s good to keep up with what the company is doing.”

“Ahh, so devoted~” Mami marvelled.

“Joey-kun can’t even dress properly in business wear everyday… And he gets invited to a movie premiere with the boss…” Keiko sulked.

“So mean, Keiko~” Joey said. “But, you’ll see! I’ve got my duds all picked out for the event already.” He smiled proudly to himself. “I’ll be all dressed up for the role – like somebody who deserves to be there,” he announced proudly.

Keiko flicked a slice of cucumber at him. It hit him square in the forehead.

“Yeah, you better be dressed for the role,” she sulked. “And don’t say that, Joey-kun. I didn’t say you don’t _deserve_ to be there.” She signalled to Miyoshi, who reached over and pinched Joey’s cheek fondly in her stead.

…

And so, at three o’clock in the afternoon on Saturday, Joey walked into Kaiba’s office, decked out in his fanciest digs, and immediately did a double take.

“P- _Pinstripes_?!” he squeaked.

Kaiba turned at the sound of his voice. The pinstripes seemed to rustled over his shoulders as he turned, golden lines of crops moving on a sea of navy blue. He was wearing a light blue tie and, for once, looked completely respectable.

“What was that, Wheeler?” he asked.

“Nothing!” Joey answered quickly. “Nothing at all.”

He wasn’t blushing.

Kaiba didn’t seem to be focused on the red ghosting his cheeks though. His eyes were narrowed at Joey’s torso.

“Wheeler- What are you wearing?”

Joey couldn’t stop himself from following Kaiba’s eyes down.

“Um… a suit?” he said, unsure what Kaiba was getting at.

Kaiba shook his head firmly. His eyes were trained downward though, glaring.

“The _suit-_ ” Kaiba’s nose wrinkled “-is an issue in of itself,” he finished. “But the shoes are my real concern.”

Joey looked down at his shoes. They looked a little grungy. But he had washed them before he left, so they wouldn’t stain the carpet.

“Eh, what about ‘em?” he asked.

Kaiba rolled his eyes. But the immaturity of the gesture didn’t match his next words.

“You can’t wear those shoes to my movie premiere, _Wheeler_!” he hissed angrily.

“I’ll wear whatever shoes I _feel_ like, Kaiba!” Joey spat back, instinctively. “And anyhow,” he calmed, “these are the best shoes I have.” He gazed down fondly at them.

“Wheeler,” Kaiba said firmly. “They’re _sneakers…_ And they’re not even _nice_ ones. There’s a hole straight through the top of the left one.”

“That just gives them character!” Joey protested. “Do you even know what kind of shoes they are?!”

Kaiba looked at him blankly.

“They’re Air Muscles! You know!!”

Joey gestured wildly. Kaiba didn’t seem to get it.

“Man, Air Muscles…?! You don’t know what kinda cred we used to get for these babies.” Joey shook his head disparagingly. “But more importantly, _this_ pair of shoes is holy! Sacred! Lucky! – I saved up for a whole year to be able to buy these puppies. And I got ‘em at a huge discount, but I didn’t get to wear them even a day, before these punks jumped in outta nowhere and stole ‘em.”

Joey grinned, in reminiscence. He pulled his fist close to his heart.

“But Yuugi went and fought to get them back for me – all by himself. And this was just when we first met!” Joey’s face coloured. He lifted his hand up to scratch the top of his head bashfully. “I like to think it was my good influence.”

Kaiba’s arms were crossed. He looked completely unimpressed.

“These shoes might not seem like much,” Joey said proudly. “But they’re a symbol of mine and Yuugi’s everlasting friendship! So they’re the best shoes to wear anywhere – the perfect shoes to wear to your party!”

Kaiba said nothing for a minute. Then-

“Wheeler… You are not wearing a seven-year-old pair of ripped up old sneakers to my premiere.”

Joey’s story had apparently not budged Kaiba an inch. Joey didn’t know what he expected, from a heartless freak like Kaiba.

Joey sneered.

“Why? What’cha gonna do to stop me, moneybags?”

For some reason, Joey had expected Kaiba to call security. Or give him the silent treatment. Or yell, or threaten to ban him from attending the event. He was then completely unprepared, when Kaiba answered his challenge by sliding forward, and preforming a complicated judo flip. He slammed Joey, face down, onto the carpeted floor, and proceeded to wrestle the shoes off himself.

“No- No! Fuck you, you bastard!” Joey yelled. He swung his legs back at the knees, to kick up at Kaiba. “Those are Yuugi’s special shoes! You can’t have them, you bastard!”

Kaiba was trying to pin his legs down and hold him still, as he pulled at the heels of the shoes. He ripped angrily at the shoelaces.

Kaiba was strong – much stronger than his slim figure would suggest – but he wasn’t _that_ strong. Joey reared his chest up and flailed against him. Kaiba had pressed a knee and an elbow into Joey’s lower back, but Joey found himself holding back from throwing Kaiba off. There was a hint of laughter bubbling up in Joey’s throat. He couldn’t be sure what Kaiba was thinking, but he wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t a joke they were somehow sharing.

“Shoe thief! Shoe thief!” he shouted out, as if trying to publically expose Kaiba, although they were tucked away, alone in the privacy of the top office.

Kaiba growled, but didn’t say anything. He finally managed to rip one of the sneakers off, and he flung it to the other side of the room, where its dirty sole hit the immaculate spines on the bookshelf, and fell flat down to the floor.

“Shoe thief,” Joey laughed.

“Shut up,” Kaiba said brusquely. “I don’t want your damn shoes. You can have them back once you’re done accompanying me for the night.”

“Shoe thief!” Joey insisted.

But he didn’t struggle too much before allowing Kaiba to pull the second shoe off, and send it flying across the room after the first. Joey heard it clatter against the wood and fall.

And then they were silent.

Joey felt Kaiba’s arms fall slack, and shift quietly away. Joey breathed, a little more heavily than usual, into the carpet. And Kaiba’s breath was also heavy, and it sunk into a complementary disharmony with Joey’s.

They waited a moment, before Joey flipped himself over, onto his back. He stretched his torso up, and extended his legs, half bent, to sit up on the carpet. He grinned mirthfully at Kaiba, and wriggled his toes in his holey socks.

Kaiba was not smiling back. He was frowning sullenly. He had one hand draped over his face, to ward off his despair. The other hand was loosely clutching a white cleansing wipe, with dark fingerprints peppered across it. He must have retrieved it from his suit pocket.

Kaiba’s legs were tense. They were pulled defensively up against his chest.

“Kaiba?” Joey prompted, ignoring whatever was even happening on Kaiba’s stupid face. “What time do we gotta be at the thing?”

The bookshelves breathed easily. All the files had been neatly arranged in their drawers. The succulent next to the filing cabinet beamed a bright green in the sun. The Blue Eyes White Dragon statue was poised protectively outside the window.

“Hn,” Kaiba grumbled. He did not attempt to answer Joey’s question. “What was I thinking – taking you as my guest?” he asked. “Some piss poor loon straight out of the slums?!” he spat. “With an ugly grey tweed suit and a bad dye job.” He snorted. “Your eyebrows don’t even match!” He growled, looking at Joey’s brown eyebrows, against the bright blonde of his bangs. “What was I thinking?” he repeated, muttering darkly under his breath.

“Hmm…” Joey shrugged. “I dunno, Kaiba. Tryin’ to figure out why you decide to do anything would be a fulltime job in of itself.”

Kaiba huffed wryly. Something that looked a whole lot like a smile flitted momentarily across his face.

“Why do you bleach your hair, Wheeler?” he asked. “It makes you look like a thug.” Kaiba’s tongue paused on his teeth, just for a moment. He shook his head. “You’re not a thug,” he said.

Coming from Kaiba, that sounded a whole lot like personal acknowledgement.

Joey felt himself startle, slightly, before stumbling into an answer.

“I dunno… I like my hair like this.” He reached up to run a finger across the fringe of his bangs. “I think bleached hair suits me. I mean- I guess I was just trying to seem like a tough and intimidating kinda guy at first, but it kinda grew on me after a while.”

Mai had also said it suited him. She had burrowed her fingers into his scalp, and had run her nails through the pale strands. She had her own hair treatments done at some beauty salon, and she’d offered to take him with her so they could get their hair dyed together.

Joey had refused, on the grounds of such an activity being too girly. But, really, he knew wherever Mai got her hair done would be expensive, and he didn’t want Mai to have to treat him.

“And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter if the hair makes people assume I’m a thug or a wannabe punk or whatever. It’s not like I’m ever going to look like an upright citizen, so I may as well just do what I like,” Joey concluded.

Kaiba’s face was blank, except for the way his brow wrinkled slightly.

“Yanno-” Joey felt himself hasten to explain. “Everybody can tell I’m half just by looking at me, so~”

Kaiba snorted.

“Half-witted, you mean,” he said. But the end of the sentence curled up, with the tiniest hint of a question.

“ _No_ ,” Joey said persistently. “ _Half_ … You know- Only _half_ Japanese.”

Kaiba said nothing.

Joey frowned.

“You know- My dad’s American. But he’s half Chinese, too.” _God it was confusing, but-_ “You _knew_ that,” Joey insisted.

“Of course,” Kaiba said smoothly, after a beat. “It would have been foolish of me not to have put that together…”

But Joey had become too good at reading Kaiba’s tells. He’d seen the exact moment in Kaiba’s eyes when everything clicked, and the long unexamined evidence snapped together in Kaiba’s head, fully formed.

“What the hell?!” Joey demanded. “You _had_ to have known! I mean- _Everybody_ knows! As soon as they look at me!”

Kaiba had nothing to say to this.

Joey pulled at his neck, scratched the skin, frustrated.

“You’ve been calling me _Wheeler_ since forever! Did you think that was for no reason?!”

Kaiba stared at him for a moment, then broke eye contact.

“Perhaps I assumed it was a tactless nickname you coined for yourself, seeing as your real name was so poorly constructed,” Kaiba admitted vaguely.

Joey grumbled to himself.

 _Well, Kaiba wasn’t_ wrong _. But Wheeler was also his dad’s English surname, so-_

Joey frowned. He let his hands and his gaze drop down to his lap. He fiddled with his thumbs.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” Joey said. “ _Everybody_ knows. As soon as they look at me,” he repeated.

He felt oddly cheated. Like finding out you’d built your sandcastle too close to the shore, and watching the waves wash in and disintegrate it.

_Serenity had cried. When that happened._

Kaiba sighed.

 _Everybody knows just by looking_ , Joey thought. _I don’t get to choose how people see me. You have to believe me._

It was something like kindness, when Kaiba didn’t point out the obvious flaw in this logic. Kaiba was _somebody_ , so if he hadn’t known… Kaiba sighed again, and pulled himself up to his feet.

“Get up,” he commanded. “Let’s go.”

==

“This is your fault. We’re late because of you.”

Kaiba glared at his phone, as he silenced it for what seemed like the fortieth time.

Joey was leaning against the car door, facing sideways across the backseat row. Kaiba was sitting opposite him at a safe distance. He refused to look at Joey in return.

Joey squirmed. The silk fabric of the suit he’d been dressed in tingled against his skin. It felt too delicate for comfort. And his feet didn’t seem to fit right in the dark leather shoes Kaiba’s assistant had forced upon him.

“We’re late because _you_ wouldn’t just take us straight to the premiere.” Joey protested. “ _You’re_ the one that insisted on putting me in this fancy English suit.”

Joey wasn’t about to admit it had been kind of cool to see the Kaiba Corp Film Studio costume department. The ladies on staff had gone at him with a measuring tape, stripped him to his boxers and socks, and pulled a black and grey suit from a rack filled with clown costumes and brightly coloured dresses and sailor uniforms and fursuits.

“If you had any idea how to outfit yourself-” Kaiba snarled. “And Armani is Italian, you idiot. Can’t you hear it’s not an English name?”

Joey ignored the linguistics lesson.

“Yeah, ‘cause you have such a good grasp on how to dress yourself.” Joey stretched his arms up and laced them behind his head. His knuckles hit the glass of the car window. “I suppose we’re lucky you don’t have any belts strapped to your arms today.”

“Hn.” Kaiba was distracted by the need to silence his ringing phone again.

Joey’s eyes traced Kaiba’s profile. The arch of his brow, and his long eyelashes and the delicate curve of his cheek, and the sharpness of his nose and chin. His neck stretched down into the collar of his pinstriped suit, and turned over a thin shoulder.

He looked away and reminded himself that Kaiba wasn’t pretty. Not in any conventional sense, anyhow.

The driver made a sharp turn around the corner, rushing to make up lost time.

Joey jolted as he lurched in his seat, pressed back against the door. He’d almost forgotten about the driver, separated from the front seat by a tinted glass panel.

“Like you were in such a rush to come to this thing,” Joey complained. “You barely wanted to come in the first place. You dawdled and you know it.” He pointed to Kaiba with an arched eyebrow, urging him to concede this point.

“Hn.” Kaiba had apparently lost interest in their argument. He was looking at his phone. “I don’t know why they just can’t be _patient_. I’ve already informed them I’m on the way.”

Joey snorted. He found himself agreeing in his mind. “It’s not like they can start the party without you. You’re the most important person there.”

Joey refused to look this time, when Kaiba turned to him.

There were a couple more beeps from Kaiba’s phone, but Joey made a point to stare out the dark tinted window he couldn’t see through. He fell into a trance, watching his eyes reflected back at him, until the car jolted to a stop.

They were being dropped at the curbside in front of a grand theatre.

The door was wrenched open. And Joey stumbled out of the backseat, opposite of Kaiba. He hurried to catch up, and slowed down to take in the scenery.

It didn’t exactly have the ambiance that Joey thought it would – not flashing cameras and red carpets, like American celebrities. The plaza in front of the theatre had been emptied save a dozen or so people. There was a half devoured tower of champagne glasses stacked to one side of the plaza, and a to-scale plastic model of Banja on the other, looming over the glamorous emptiness. The light from a pair of spotlights blended unevenly into the dusk.

Kaiba was rushing – long legged strides – and Joey rushed to catch up. He loped forward in a light jog, and marvelled at the gauche beauty of the theatre, like something out of a European fairy tale. It was strange he had never noticed the theatre’s spiny towers on Domino’s skyline before.

Kaiba rammed his foot against the brand new shoes he’d outfitted Joey in, scuffing them. Joey stumbled backwards.

“Oi! Watch it!” Joey bristled.

“Stay one pace behind me,” Kaiba commanded. “Don’t walk with your hands in your pockets. Try to look professional – like a secretary should.” Kaiba paused. “Don’t hand out unsolicited information. Don’t trust anyone.”

Joey glared at the back of Kaiba’s head. _He’d show Kaiba professional._

He fiddled – between the keys and phone and kerchief in his pocket. He found the pen and memo notepad he’d gotten out of Satou-chan’s supplies. _What was a secretary for? If not for secretating things or whatever?_

He arranged the tip of the ballpoint against the paper:

_Kaiba has a whole bunch of made-up rules for me to follow.  
Rule #1: You can kiss my fucking ass, Kaiba._

This took up almost the whole page, and Joey flipped to the next one, intending to fill it with more insults, but he was distracted by a flash of light through the windows of the theatre, and then, once more, the twinkle of the champagne tower, and the spires against the sky.

Kaiba had turned to look down at him. There was something uncomfortable in his expression mixed in with the distaste. Something a bit, but not exactly, like pity.

“Close your mouth. Don’t gape,” Kaiba added to his list of rules.

Joey hurried to pull his jaw closed. He was annoyed to feel himself flush.

Kaiba was already a hundred metres off. An older businessman had met him halfway out the theatre, and hustled him in front of the model of Banja. A photographer had set up shop in front of them. And Kaiba and the businessman shook hands and turned to- well, Kaiba didn’t smile at the camera as much as forcibly pummel the muscles in his face into a configuration that looked less tense.

By the time Joey caught up, they had dropped pretences. Kaiba moved his hand, with a calculated speed, directly out of the handshake, and folded it immediately beneath his armpit. Joey watched him hold it awkwardly, before brushing it off against the pinstripe fabric of his suit, hidden safely from the businessman’s view by the crisscrossing lattice of Kaiba’s arms.

“I was here as quickly as I could manage... Of course they waited.” Kaiba sneered. “…most important…” he mumbled. “What else can they-”

He cut himself off as Joey stepped forward. His eyes panned sideways to meet Joey’s. His expression had defaulted to an easy frown – carefully neutral.

The businessman looked between them.

Nobody said anything.

The camera flashed. And they all squinted at the light.

“Off the record, not for the press release,” the cameraman reassured.

“I should think not.” Kaiba was glaring.

Joey hesitated a moment. “Hey, buddy, do you think I could get a copy of that? It’s not every day I get to pose with a bunch of bigwigs in front of a real dragon replica!”

He jabbed a finger back towards the model of Banja. It towered over them – far above even a hundred ninety centimetres of Kaiba – and grinned predatorily. Putting it that way, shouldn’t it seem more intimidating? Joey squinted at it curiously for a second.

 _Why isn’t this dragon scary at all?_ he jotted down very professionally in his notepad.

“So, uh, yeah. I’m Joey Wheeler,” Joey introduced, as he struck the pen off the side of the pad with a flourish. He looked up to the businessman, glanced over to Kaiba, and then back. “I dunno if the movie’s starting anytime soon or…”

“I remember you,” the businessman said. A smug smile ghosted the edge of his lip. “Kaiba-sama introduced you when you interrupted the board meeting the other day. His personal assistant.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Joey agreed. Although he didn’t recognise the man.

There was a pause, during which nobody made any overtures to extend an introduction back to Joey.

“We’re late,” Kaiba sighed.

“I remember saying so, Kaiba-sama. And I remember you making it pretty clear everyone could wait for you.”

Kaiba grunted in frustration. He turned to stalk off, and caught Joey’s wrist on the way. He swivelled Joey back towards the entrance of the theatre, and then slammed the arm angrily against Joey’s chest before letting go.

Joey snickered to himself – glad he’d managed to make a menace of himself. He waved to the cameraman and Kaiba’s board member excitedly before jogging to catch up with Kaiba.

They walked the threshold into the theatre.

The lobby was decked out in royal blue carpet. And the overhead lights were made to look like crystals. They glowed bright and reflectant off the walls. The blue clashed wonderfully against the silver and orange that accented the stage props and photos from the movie production, set out in glass cases and frames for passers-by to marvel at.

Everything was crisp, clean, rich velvet. And Joey wanted to write something in the notepad, to somehow preserve the moment, but he couldn’t think of anything before they approached the screening room.

The reel had started, and the Kaiba Corp logo moved over the screen like a ripple on water, right as they arrived at the corridor inside.

“Our seats are this way,” Kaiba said, pointing into the darkness.

==

The figures on the screen were distinct enough to recognise without the full use of his vision. Takashi-kun’s and Himeko-chan’s and Banja’s silhouettes were distinct and sharp, to make the characters easily recognisable and preserve brand recognition.

The credits were not so unique, and so the names blurred into illegibility behind Joey’s tear filled eyes.

He bit his quivering lip and heard himself hiccup slightly. He retrieved Mai’s handkerchief, from the pocket of Kaiba’s silk suit, and wiped under his eyelids.

He might not be able to read the names of the cast, but he looked at the growing list of names, and thought about the legions of actors and actresses and writers and designers and workers that had made the movie possible.

He knew one of the names would be Kaiba Seto.

He knew that Keiko and Mami and Miyoshi and Satou-chan and Tsukuda and himself would not be listed on the screen. But they were part of it too.

It was good to be part of something big.

There was a post-credits gag. Banja’s cosmic ghost companion Mizuko-chan crashed into an asteroid.

Joey laughed. The raised curl of his smiling cheeks created a shelf to stem the flow of his tears. He blinked at the changing light in the theatre, and rubbed at his eyes again, but he was still caught in the whirlwind of Banja and Takashi-kun’s bond. And their mutual survival. And the sadness of their parting.

He glanced right, then left, then right again. Before he realised he recognised Kaiba’s cold stare.

He turned quickly left again.

Kaiba made no effort to hide that he had been watching Joey, but his expression was less sharp than Joey expected.

“What?” Joey challenged. He wiped at his eyes again, as discreetly as he could manage, which was not very. He shoved Mai’s handkerchief up his sleeve.

Kaiba’s brow wrinkled in concentration. “You’re very… expressive.” He seemed to be struggling with the wording.

Around them people were moving. Exiting back out into the venue hall.

Joey frowned.

“Okay,” he replied. He wasn’t quite convinced he was being insulted. He readied himself for when Kaiba started with a more overt criticism.

It didn’t happen exactly like that, though.

“You started crying at five different parts of the movie,” Kaiba said. “You laughed on thirty-three different occasions. You exhibited a sharp intake of breath twelve times. And you would very often move between smiling and frowning in the space of several seconds.”

Kaiba sounded more… _intrigued_ than judgemental. Joey found himself unsettled.

It wasn’t only that Kaiba had apparently spent the whole movie watching his reactions. That was par for the course. You could always count on Kaiba to be a giant weirdo.

It was that Joey hadn’t counted on it. He had been so drawn in by what was happening on the screen, he had forgotten Kaiba was in the next seat at all. He hadn’t worried in the slightest about looking like a wuss.

“So?” Joey said, a bit defensively. “It was a good movie. _Touching._ You’re _supposed_ to cry.”

Kaiba’s expression didn’t budge.

“How can you watch Takashi-kun and Banja exchange tearful goodbyes and not be moved by it?!” Joey demanded, increasingly defensive. “The pureness of those emotions is _supposed_ to touch you!”

Mai never cried either. Well, she did. Just not at movies.

Kaiba’s face contorted. “You know it’s fake. Right, Wheeler? …Takashi and Banja are just characters. Played by actors. Who are _acting_.” When Joey didn’t respond, he continued. “Mizuno Akihiko is Takashi. And Abe Saburo is the voice of Banja… There are no pure emotions. They’re _fake_. They’re putting on a _performance_.”

Joey sniffled. His tears had stemmed, at least.

“Just because the scenario is made up, doesn’t mean the emotions are fake.”

Kaiba snorted. “You’re weird,” he said.

Joey frowned. But, again, he didn’t feel exactly like he was being insulted. There was a juvenile curiosity in Kaiba’s dismissal.

Kaiba stood up. He looked at Joey and jerked his head towards the exit, beckoning him along.

Joey scrambled up to climb down from the elevated VIP seats. He did not want to be left behind.

He pulled unevenly at his sleeve, as he walked. He retrieved Mai’s handkerchief from where it had snaked down towards his elbow, and fiddled with its fringe, one last time, before stowing it away in his pocket and retrieving his secretary’s spiral notepad.

He scribbled unconvinced. He listed Kaiba’s statistics and squinted at them unsurely.

_Laughed – 33. Gasped – 12. Cried – 5._

“Did you… _not_ like the movie, Kaiba?” Joey asked uncertainly. It kind of grated, if Kaiba didn’t even like his own movie. After he had tricked Joey into liking it.

Kaiba glanced back over his shoulder. He seemed taken aback.

“It was satisfactory,” he said.

Joey relaxed a little bit. At least Kaiba didn’t say he disliked it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joey prodded, teasingly this time.

“I’m sure it will serve its intended purpose.” Kaiba shrugged. “It wasn’t unpleasant – Mokuba assured me of as much in advance.”

It was kind of weird that Mokuba was the authority on Kaiba’s own opinions about movies, but Joey decided to let it go.

 _Kaiba liked the movie._ Joey wrote definitively on the notepad.

They walked a couple more paces.

Something seemed to occur to Kaiba. He glanced back again, unsure.

“Did… _you_ enjoy the movie, Wheeler?” he asked belatedly. Tentatively.

Joey was confused Kaiba even had to ask. _He had cried, hadn’t he?_

“Yea-” Joey breathed. “It was good.”

“Hn... I’m glad.” Kaiba turned away and nodded solemnly to himself.

The crowd seemed impossibly large, coming out of the screening room. What had been tucked away upon their entrance had spread out like a surge of brushfire on the way out.

The staff tried to direct the crowd back down the corridor, but they didn’t seem to be making much progress. Cameras were flashing. Guests crisscrossed the hallway, waving at one another and greeting acquaintances. They lolled behind as they caught up with one another, either oblivious to the directives of the put-upon workers, or defiant of them.

Kaiba alone seemed intent on the progression from the screening room back towards the banquet hall. Joey followed on his heels.

“Don’t ya have to go, yanno, mingle? Or something?” Joey asked

Kaiba grunted. “Later. Everyone’s gotten in the habit of bombarding me with their ‘pleasantries’ during dinner.”

Joey snickered. “Probably ‘cause you’re a grump that makes yourself hard to corner ahead of time.”

“Hn. You understand then.” Kaiba huffed in approximation of a laugh.

A couple of children ran across the hall in front of them, playing tag, and Kaiba had to stop and wait for them to pass.

Joey turned out to the crowd. There seemed to be a good number of kids at the premiere. _It was a kid’s movie, after all._ It seemed like a lot of the guests had brought children or grandchildren to the show. There were fewer people their age. Joey tried to catch the eye of a particularly pretty babe, but his grin and the high wave of his hand didn’t seem to command her attention. He redirected his attention to another woman, and then an older couple, each without success.

“Did you need something, sir?”

Joey turned. The workers at the theatre were dressed in royal blue uniforms. Little black vests.

Kaiba waited, looking back curiously.

“Oh, uh-” Joey faltered. He realised he didn’t have anything to say to this person. And probably had just as little to say to the other guests.

“So, uh, where can I get some food around this joint?” Joey asked.

Kaiba huffed in annoyance.

The worker smiled – fake and indulgent. Or maybe they _were_ happy to find someone that was finally amiable to being led in the right direction.

“Right this was, sir. Hors d'oeuvres will be brought out shortly.”

“We were going this way to begin with,” Kaiba groused, as they entered the beginnings of a banquet hall. There was a stage to the very front of the room, with a lavish purple curtain and someone playing at the grand piano. Everywhere else was blue and white and crystalline. Tables had been set out to one side of the room, away from an empty space of glossy hardwood flooring.

Most importantly, though-

“Oohh!” Joey cheered, pointing across the room rudely to where servers were beginning to disperse with trays. “I’m going to go see if I can track down some of those snacks!”

“They’re going to come over to us whether you chase them down or not,” Kaiba said, in vain, as Joey ran off.

The banquet hall was still relatively empty, and Joey managed to dive around the crowd with ease. He dove directly into the path of one of the servers, and studied the tray of identical appetisers. They were put together delicately on small black dishes – with bright red sauce dolloped with a pointed tip, and a flourish of green parsley.

He accepted one from the server and, by the time he made it back to Kaiba, he was convinced.

“Oh my god,” Joey gushed. “Have you tried the sausage bread – or it’s like sausage bread, but-”

Joey melted as he stuffed the next one into his mouth.

No, no. It was so buttery… and flaky. And the sausage was peppery and hearty, without being greasy. And they served it with some kind of spicy mayo fruit dip thing. It was _nothing_ like the sausage bread they sold at the convenience store.

Kaiba looked at him with a vague expression of disgust.

“Who could have guessed,” he muttered, “that a dog’s loyalty could be bought with a couple of pigs in blankets?”

Joey stuffed the second to last sausage roll in his mouth.

“I know you’re insulting me,” he told Kaiba, speaking around his food. “I just don’t care.” He stuck out his tongue.

Kaiba recoiled.

“Here! You should try one!” Joey said, offering the last of the sausage rolls to Kaiba. “It’s really good, I promise.”

Kaiba pushed the plate away, wrinkled his nose, and gave Joey an unimpressed look.

“I’ve been to approximately a hundred of these gatherings,” he said. “It should occur to you that I’m already familiar with what hors d'oeuvres I like.”

Joey, who had been trying to figure out a way to stuff the last sausage roll in Kaiba’s mouth, deflated. “Oh,” he said.

Of course none of this was new for Kaiba but… he kind of wanted someone around to share the excitement of the premiere with.

He imagined what it would be like with Yuugi, or Honda, or Serenity here with him. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would impress Anzu, but it would still be new for her at least. And none of it would have been new for Mai, but she might indulge him anyhow.

“Hn.” A strange look came over Kaiba’s face. “I already got an hors d'oeuvre from one of the waiters anyhow,” he placated. “See.” He lifted up his own plate to show Joey.

Joey brightened. “What is it?” he said, leaning in to study it raptly. “It must be pretty special if it passes the _almighty_ _Kaiba Seto’s standards_.” He leaned in to sniff at the salty scent.

Kaiba’s face reddened. He stepped away from Joey, and pulled the dish up closer to his chest. He lifted up the appetizer on its toothpick and looked at it a half a second.

Then he shoved it violently at Joey’s mouth.

Joey gagged. He punched lightly at Kaiba’s arm in retaliation, before trying to cough the food back up.

Kaiba was glaring at the hand clutching the empty toothpick – almost like he wanted to set it on fire.

But Joey was only angry for so long as he wasn’t eating so, when the food dislodged itself from the back of his throat, he chewed it quickly, and immediately perked back up.

“Hey~ This is pretty good,” he said. “What is it? Bacon and melon?”

“Prosciutto and cantaloupe,” Kaiba said, frowning. “It’s one of the only dishes I can stand to eat at these things. It’s unfortunate my dog got to it before me.”

Joey flipped Kaiba off as discretely as he could manage.

Kaiba took this as gracefully as he could be expected. Which meant he ignored it.

Joey smiled to himself as he finished eating the bacon melon. He rocked back and forth on his heels, as he devoured the final sausage roll himself.

“European food is really rich though, isn’t it?” he asked, spinning the empty appetiser plate in his hand.

“Hn,” Kaiba agreed. “If you’re looking for Japanese food, I believe they have some sashimi bowls, with fatty tuna.”

Joey tisked. “That’s really rich too.” A thought occurred to him. “Oh-!” he cheered.

Kaiba turned to him curiously.

“Have you ever-?! _Nyotaimori_?!” Joey asked. “You know- eaten sushi off a naked lady?”

Kaiba’s eyes glazed over.

“ _No_?” Joey waved him off, sighing disappointed. “Figures it’s the kind of thing that only _really_ happens in the movies~ Not to mention you’re too much of a puss-”

“I have actually,” Kaiba interrupted. “I just worry about what’s going on in your head that would prompt such a question.”

“You have?!” Joey brightened. “What was it like?”

“Unhygienic.” Kaiba frowned. “It wasn’t my idea.”

Joey huffed.

“Oh, c’mon!” he protested. “You gotta give me more to work with than that.”

“It was unhygienic, and also the sushi was mediocre,” Kaiba added.

There Kaiba was again. Acting inscrutable and cold in the face of the world’s great wonders.

Joey laughed to himself. He stepped forward, and leaned his elbow casually up against Kaiba’s shoulder.

“Y’know, Kaiba… I think the whole point is that it’s a little _dirty_.” Joey waggled his eyebrows.

Kaiba snorted. He pushed Joey off and turned away. But Joey caught the edge of a smile, or something like it.

Smiles were contagious. Joey waved for more appetisers, and continued talking.

“Anzu was telling me about a movie she went and saw recently. Something about a fat people wedding… I don’t really get American flicks, but- I dunno, I don’t really get out to see much anymore. Yuugi and I used to go to adventure type stuff together – _Tomb Raider_ ’s a classic – but that’s while he was still bumming around after high school. Now I just get dragged to artsy foreign stuff sometimes. I don’t get much outta the movies themselves to be honest but it’s nice just to get out, yanno what I mean?”

Kaiba didn’t respond, but he appeared to be listening from the way his shoulders relaxed into stillness. He turned his head slightly, his ears piqued, and Joey waved for more appetisers and smiled and kept talking.

And, for a while, it seemed like it’d just be the two of them, standing and munching on snacks and getting lost in the mindless hum of film talk.

“Kaiba-sama,” someone said, and Kaiba waved for Joey to stop talking. There was a hush, as Kaiba spoke in an undertone with the intruder.

“They want me on,” Kaiba explained. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He walked off without further explanation.

The room had filled in the meantime, and Joey was suddenly aware of how alone he was in the crowd. He waved for another plate of appetisers. He almost didn’t care what it was, so long as it kept him busy.

After a moment filled with tiny bites of crab salad and sliced egg. The lights in the room dimmed, and the sound of the piano softened and came to a halt, and then Joey saw, as Kaiba walked up onto the stage at the announcement of a man in a maroon suit.

Kaiba’s presence filled the whole room. He was handed a microphone, which he tapped loudly with his finger.

And then he raised it to his mouth and spoke to the entirety of the banquet hall.

“Seven years ago, Kaiba Corporation made its first steps in the transformation from arms provider to entertainment empire.” Kaiba’s head tilted slightly, and he gave a light and humorous smile Joey hadn’t thought him capable of. “A corporate strategy, I might add, that was met with resistance every step of the way.”

There seemed to be a pointed silence from the peanut gallery. And Joey wondered how many people in the room had been part of that resistance, and how many were blinking confused at the thinly veiled accusations flying over their heads.

“My critics might consider this a move of weakness, one that has undermined the power Kaiba Corporation had in dominating the market, and the flow of world resources at large. But I know, now more than ever, that Kaiba Corporation’s influence has only grown – that it is in a position to carry out the greatest effect on the world around it.

“Kaiba Corporation always intends to be a radicalisation of how we think and consume, how we live and fight and _die_.”

Kaiba spat this last word, as if it had personally offended him. The room shivered uncomfortably in its morbidity, Joey included. But there was something about it that left his ears open to the rest of what Kaiba had to say.

“And more than the ravages of war, torture, and death – Kaiba Corporation’s technology will be what creates the reality of this world, and what exists beyond it. And more than war and torture and death, Kaiba Corporation will give everyone something to stand up and live for and fight for! It will give everyone the ability to put their skills to the test and _prove_ the importance of their place in this world!”

Kaiba had to take a breath to calm back down, but he did it seamlessly. And it launched right into his next statement.

“Kaiba Corporation’s virtual reality and gaming properties are already at the centre of the changes in how our world understands conflict, and how it transcends the boundaries of our backgrounds and experiences and individualism.

“And Kaiba Corporation’s theme parks and movie productions aim to do something entirely different. Kaiba Land Theme Parks have already opened their doors to over five hundred orphanages and one hundred fifty high risk schools.”

Kaiba smiled – wry and angry and intense. And Joey believed it utterly.

“I want there to be a place that every child can go,” Kaiba said. “I want there to be a sliver of happiness for every child that visits Kaiba Land parks, or watches Kaiba Corp films. No matter where they come from, and what they must endure. And, through them, Kaiba Corporation will decide the future! Kaiba Corporation is going to create a world where everyone who is skilled can succeed, and where everyone who isn’t can be at peace!”

There was utter silence. Joey felt like everyone in the room must be holding their breath.

“But I digress,” Kaiba continued. “We’re here to celebrate Banja – a dragon whose story, through the talented hands of our actors and directors, will hopefully inspire a generation.”

Kaiba went on to talk about the movie’s production process. But that was all a little beyond Joey.

Joey remembered what he had purposefully left out earlier, babbling about movies with Kaiba. He remembered hiding in the theatre and watching those Chambara summer movie marathons. He remembered how important it had been – just to sit somewhere safe and quiet, where he could look up at the screen and behold the visions and aspirations of people much greater than a lonely, hungry ten year old.

And Kaiba, who spoke to that place, that was too personal and raw for Joey to express in anything other than lightness and mockery- To hear Kaiba defend that in a flurry of passion he felt too strongly to be properly embarrassed by- That he would defend the right for a bunch of stupid Rintama kids to visit a theme park, like that was something precious instead of the meaningless drivel that would occupy their time before their inevitable deaths-

 _Kaiba was such a loser,_ Joey had to remember. _He couldn’t feed himself. He couldn’t make a friend. He spent his days trapped alone in an office. And he had once vomited on Joey’s jeans._

But Kaiba could confidently go up on stage and lay his dreams out on the table, like they were worth listening to.

And it was really cool. Kaiba could be really cool. And Joey had to work hard to blink the stars out of his eyes.

==

“What did you write?”

Kaiba snatched the notepad out of his hands, as soon as he’d returned from the limelight of the stage. He examined the open page for only a second, before tossing the notepad back for Joey to catch.

“Typical,” Kaiba grunted, in a way that seemed almost offended.

Joey looked down at the object in his hands.

 _Kaiba gave a speech_ , was all he had managed to write.

Joey huffed, annoyed. It wasn’t as if he owed Kaiba a friggin pat on the back for managing to string together a worthwhile group of sentences. But he somehow felt embarrassed by the lacking nature of his comment anyhow. He wanted to say something – something encouraging even. It was just he couldn’t find the words.

The caterers were opening the buffet, and a distressing number of people were lining up to get in on the deal.

“Why don’t ya sit down?” Joey said. “I’ll go get plates for the both of us. How about that?”

Kaiba nodded absently. He seemed to entirely miss the part where Joey was magnanimously allowing him get out of the responsibility of waiting in line himself. And he summoned none of the appreciation a reasonable person should at such an offer.

_Kaiba was…_

Joey was keenly aware that there was only one word for what Kaiba was doing. He was _sulking_. And this instilled in Joey a renewed appreciation that he had offered to spend a good twenty minutes away from Kaiba waiting in line.

Joey watched as Kaiba redirected himself towards the assigned seats carved out for them in the most distant end of the banquet hall. And Joey hesitated before giving Kaiba an encouraging slap on the back. He lingered only long enough to watch Kaiba startle, before jogging away to take his place in the line for the buffet.

Joey was already feeling hungry again, since the disappearance of the appetisers. The distance to the edge of the buffet table seemed unreasonably far, and there didn’t seem to be much to occupy him on the way there. Most people had walked up to wait in line in groups of two and three, and Joey felt less inclined to talk to the other party goers after his first attempts at being friendly had only produced a stiff awkwardness. He stood with his hands in his pockets, and rocked back and forth on the heels of Kaiba’s fancy shoes.

He resolved to himself that he would eat enough food to last all of tomorrow, to make up for it.

There was a marvellous selection of food at the front of the line. Cuts of meat and strange looking mixed salads and cheeses. It seemed more than Joey was really capable of taking in. He grabbed one gold-trimmed white porcelain plate from the top of the stack on the edge of the table, balanced it on his elbow, and then set another one in his hand. Most of the dishes were strange and foreign to him, and he zoned in on the first familiar dish.

He grabbed the tongs that were set out to serve with, and clicked them in his hand.

Pasta was probably a good bet. Mai liked pasta a lot. There wasn’t one with red sauce here, but-

Joey piled two plates high with the spaghetti. It had pieces of squid and shrimp in a light white sauce. A little further along the table was a basket with rolls of bread, and he danced down, juggling the plates on his arm, and used a second pair of tongs to add several rolls to his own plate, and one to Kaiba’s

_Bringing the help along as his plus one. Think about that. He had to hire someone to come with him._

Joey thought he heard someone say-

 _Could it really be that blatant?_ he wondered.

He turned, intending to find the suspicious party. Everyone looked suspicious, though, in their dress suits and gowns and demure smiles.

Kaiba was engaged in discussion when Joey got back to their table. He was talking with someone to his right, although the seat to his left was conspicuously absent. Joey slid into it, and slid the plate of pasta down in front of Kaiba, who didn’t respond, not even when Joey tried to meet his eyes for a meaningful, _eat-your-food_ glare.

The person who was talking with Kaiba, some old suit, looked curiously over to Joey. But Kaiba took no note of this, preferring to soldier on with the conversation.

Joey arranged a fork in his left hand, with which to shovel the pasta into his mouth, and took the notepad out of his pocket with his right hand and set it on the table, so he could scribble in it while he was eating.

 _Everyone here might be just as much of a jerk as Kaiba. Ain’t that a nice thought?_ he wrote.

It occurred to him that Kaiba might actually be _less_ of a jerk than a number of them. But that seemed to be too large an idea to commit to words. He quickly flipped to the next page of the notepad, and began sketching a Scapegoat over the lined paper.

People kept approaching the table. The seat to Kaiba’s right turned over and exchanged hands like the seat on a merry-go-round. And Kaiba continued to not-introduce Joey to people, unless they made a specific point of asking.

“And who is accompanying you this evening?”

Joey turned to look up at them, his mouth puffed out around an overly large bite of pasta, and his hand poised over the notepad. He had descended to the level of graffitiing the paper with nothing more than pattered scribbles. Kaiba turned to look at Joey, with a look that seemed resigned to being caught out.

“He works for me. My personal assistant, Joey Wheeler,” Kaiba said neutrally.

“Charmed,” Joey said, around a mouthful of pasta.

When this latest person was gone, there was a small break in the line of executives and movie stars and investors eager to greet Kaiba.

“Seafood carbonara?” Kaiba asked, with a small hint of distaste.

Joey shrugged, as he jammed a piece of bread in his mouth.

Kaiba looked over his shoulder at the notepad. He shook his head in disapproval of the cartoon tiger doodled over it, but his expression softened slightly. He grabbed the sides of his chair and shifted it slightly. He leaned against the left arm rest, before greeting the next person come to talk to Kaiba Corp’s CEO.

When the pasta and bread were gone, Joey got up to revisit the buffet line. The crowd had cleared out, so he didn’t have to wait this time, and there was still more than enough food for everyone to have several more servings.

Joey grabbed a plate, and looked back and forth eagerly. He eyed the wait staff, and wondered if he could arrange to take a tray home with him.

_Nah, you can’t be that person. They’ll make fun of you for being Chinese._

Joey piled his plate with short ribs and fried potatoes, and headed back to his seat, where Kaiba was still talking to the other guests. He was leaned moodily back in his chair, and twirled his fork in his hand absently.

Joey resumed eating and scribbling in the notepad. The potatoes were filling, and the meat was sweet and flavourful.

 _Do y’think Yuugi likes potatoes?_ Joey asked the notepad. _He likes fries. And burgers. Mutou-chan says that’s why he’s so short. Too many burgers. Malnutrition. But she and Gramps are really short too, so-_

“Would you _put that thing away_?!”

Joey pulled his hand out of the way, as a hand slammed down on the notepad and ruffled its pages. Kaiba spun his fingers around the spiral coil, and slammed it resolutely shut.

“That’s enough of this farce for one evening,” Kaiba hissed.

“God, who pissed in your cereal?” Joey asked, knocking his heel against Kaiba’s under the table.

Kaiba didn’t respond, except for a low grunt.

Joey didn’t deign Kaiba with his attention. Let Kaiba be a grouch to himself. Joey had food.

It was a good five minutes of Joey picking his way through the short ribs. During which he had all but forgotten about Kaiba. Until-

“I hate _them_.”

“Hmm?” Joey hummed around a bite of rib. He turned.

A glop of spaghetti was swirled around Kaiba’s fork, abandoned on the edge of his plate. It looked like he’d taken a couple bites of the pasta, and prepared a third before abandoning it uneaten.

Kaiba himself was slouched back in his chair. His arms huddled protectively over his chest. In one of them dangled a glass of liquor – whiskey on the rocks, filled almost to the top.

“I hate these people. I hate _all_ these people,” Kaiba snarled, before taking a gulp of his drink.

“When did you even get that?” Joey nodded at the glass.

Kaiba ignored him. “I’ve known some of them since I was _ten_.”

“How much have you had?” Joey quirked an eyebrow.

“Don’t act _stupid_ , Wheeler,” Kaiba admonished. “You already know this. You were _there_.”

Joey wasn’t sure where. But Kaiba scowled, and continued.

“I stood over there, with the other children,” Kaiba waved an arm off towards the corner of the banquet hall where everyone of a certain age had been deposited and left. “Or, worse, I’d stand next to my foster father. And I watched them having fun, even though I had to go home to Daimon… textbooks, studies, Noa’s empty room… discussions of nuclear warfare…”

Kaiba took a long draught of his whiskey before continuing.

“And I hated them.”

Joey considered this.

“Nobody did anything? Noticed how you were being treated?” he asked blankly.

Kaiba laughed shortly. “Oh, the ones that did I hated the most,” Kaiba sneered. “What could they hope to accomplish, against the CEO of the most prominent Kaiba Corporation? The ones who vocally protested, the ones who slid in prodding questions and sly comments, the ones that tried to _befriend_ me… one couple even tried involving the government…” Kaiba barked out another laugh, this time long and manic. “Like Gouzaburou didn’t have a world of public officials eating from the crumbs in his pocket.”

Kaiba glared viciously across the hall.

“Cows is what they were. Cows offering themselves to the slaughtering block. They didn’t do it out of any hope of helping me. They only did it to feed their own _egos_.”

“Yea-” Joey agreed, munching despondently on a piece of short rib.

Joey got that. _He had hated them too._ He hated how they teased. He hated how they scorned. He hated how they had all looked away from the bruises on his forearm, and the sharp scratches on Serenity’s shoulder. He hated that they had the gall to _believe_ when Serenity lied, and said it wasn’t because their mother threw a dish at their father. Said it wasn’t sharp shards of shattered porcelain finding their way to a much softer target. He hated how they never stopped bothering them about the shape of their eyes, or the sharp structure of her forehead, or the coarse make of his hair, or the bumpkin accent, which didn’t sound the least bit foreign. And he hated that the teachers told him off when he showed up to school with blond hair and bloody knuckles – told him off, not because he was using these things to hide who he really was, but because it wasn’t presentable. It went too far against school rules.

And he hated that teacher who tried to help – tried to report his father – _most_. Because it had turned something that was simply a fact of Joey’s life into some kind of big deal. And his mother had come up from out of town to yell at the school officials. And his father had cried. And when the school board got involved, Joey had lived three days in complete fear that he’d be sent away to some kind of facility, before the school board had come down with a fury on the opposite side, and fired the teacher for causing trouble. And she’d just been doing the right thing but, in the end, he couldn’t even remember her _name_ , for all it had been worth to him.

“It makes you think, though,” Joey said, pushing a last slice of potato against the plate with his fork. “I wonder how many of them hate _us_?”

Kaiba blinked harshly.

“ _Excuse_ me.” The grip on his whiskey seemed to magnify. The ice clinked in the glass.

“Yea-” Joey went on to explain. “We’ve been standing around, having dumb conversations about appetizers and movies and shit. _I_ think we’ve been having fun. How many of those kids over there do you think’ll resent us, just for being here – for looking away because we have nothing to say to ‘em?”

He paused to chew at the potato. It was buttery and fluffy.

“It didn’t take much for me to hate people, back in those days,” Joey said.

This was met with static silence for a good ten seconds, during which Joey mauled the rest of the food on his plate, before he realised something had gone wrong.

He turned to Kaiba, and was surprised to find him actually shaking with suppressed rage. It was a good thing he’d already drunk most of the whiskey, because what was there sloshed across the sides of the glass in jittery spasms.

“Uh, Kaiba?” Joey asked worriedly.

Kaiba turned to him. He looked absolutely livid.

“Don’t talk to me,” he hissed.

“Kaiba-”

“ _Don’t_!” Kaiba hissed. “I _mean_ it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the night. You will shut your mouth, sit quietly, and say _nothing_!”

“Oh, c’mon, Kaiba~” Joey’s face fell in disappointment.

Kaiba turned in his seat so his back was to Joey.

“Kaiba~” Joey pleaded.

Kaiba remained facing away, as silent and immovable as a wall.

Joey sat there for a minute, staring at the pinstripes on Kaiba’s back, before he realised that Kaiba was likely serious, and would spend the rest of the night refusing to look at him.

Joey sighed. He left his notepad at his seat. He stood up, and made his way over to the buffet table. There were desserts piled at the end, and Joey took a plate of chocolate hazelnut cake, and ate it standing. When he’d finished that, he moved on to a mango mousse cup.

He felt like he should be annoyed with Kaiba’s sudden mood swings but, really, he kind of got it. Kaiba might be a bit of an uptight, moody bitch about it, but nobody wanted to be hated. Everyone wanted to be well-liked, well- _loved_. And Kaiba was trying his best to make the world better for all the kids like him. Of course he didn’t want to hear about the ways he would fail some of them, just by being himself.

But the thing was that Kaiba was well-liked, well- _loved_ – Mokuba had said so himself. It was just that Kaiba couldn’t see it.

It was either spend the whole night sitting next to Kaiba moping, or do something to fix it, and Joey knew which would be more fun.

Joey discarded the empty mango mousse cup on the table, and walked back over to the backroom. He caught one of the servers on the way there.

“Hey, yanno what I need? Some big- like-” Joey waved his arms expressively. “Construction poster paper things. And some big black markers. And crayons and coloured pencils and stuff.”

“Poster paper? Coloured pencils?” the server asked unsurely.

“Yea-” Joey nodded seriously.

“For… what? Exactly?”

“Hey, hey~ No asking questions!” Joey tisked. “You know I work directly under Kaiba and all, right? If you can’t get me some markers and posters, you at least need to direct me to where I can find some ASAP.”

“N-No, it’s no problem, sir,” the server bowed.

The catering service did apparently have some poster paper and markers on hand, and Joey was quickly delivered some crayons and coloured markers as well.

That settled, all Joey had to do was make the magic happen. Carrying the supplies in his arms, he waltzed right over to the corner, where the children and grandchildren of all the bigwigs were gathered. They eyed him warily, but Joey didn’t pay that any mind.

“Hey, guys~” he grinned widely. “It’s been pretty boring here since the movie ended, huh?”

Fifteen minutes later, the kids were practically crawling over the top of him. Pulling at his arm and leaning over his shoulder, as he tried his best to write the kanji for _horse_ as neatly as possible on the poster.

“Joey-san, you’re not very good at calligraphy are you?” Akemi-chan chastised.

“And not good at drawing either,” Chika-chan said solemnly.

“Nope~” Joey agreed. He finished the character with a flourish, and went back over with the black marker, to make it more bold, before handing the poster to Akemi. “You guys are really talented compared to me. I’m sure you’ll do a great job~”

Akemi nodded happily, and went to colour the backside of the poster.

Joey continued marking up the rest of the posters. There were nineteen kids, so between the message in hiragana, Kaiba’s name in kanji, and the honorific, he’d be at sixteen posters. He graffitied up three with exclamation points to have enough to go around.

Chika looked worried at the blank side of her poster, when Joey handed it to her. She leaned in and whispered to him seriously.

“I know he’s your friend, but my parents said that Kaiba-sama is a bad person, who killed the nice man that took him in and raised him.” Chika looked sadly down at her shoes. “They say he’s… bad… and not good at business. So… I don’t know what to put on my poster.”

Joey did his best not to sigh.

“Well,” he confided, “I don’t want to disrespect your parents and all, but I can say that they’re wrong, and Kaiba’s not like that.”

Chika pursed her lips and looked guilty.

“But, well,” Joey continued. “Ya don’t need to say anything good about Kaiba directly if you don’t want to… You liked the movie, right? Banja was super cool! And you like Duel Monsters?”

Chika’s lips pulled into a smile. She nodded.

“Well, Kaiba’s kind of a shy and moody guy,” Joey confided, as if divulging some big secret. “He’s not really great with people, so he tries his best to talk with people through his dragons and games and movies and stuff. He puts a lot of himself into his work and his projects, so if you liked the movie, it’s kind of like you like him a little tiny bit… So if you can’t compliment him, I’m sure if you say the movie made you happy, he’ll be happy.”

Chika brightened. She seemed to think this was a good compromise.

“I think I’ll try and draw a picture of Banja-kun for him,” she decided.

“Yeah, you will,” Joey ruffled her hair and smiled happily.

Once she was gone, Joey turned to look across the banquet hall at Kaiba.

Kaiba was waving for a server to refill his whiskey, and wouldn’t look at Joey. Just as he hadn’t the last four times Joey had tried to catch his eye.

 _Stubborn asshole_ , Joey thought. Everyone else in the hall seemed barely capable of keeping their eyes off what he had the kids doing. Several of the parents had come up to ask, and Joey had chased them off with the assurance that they were just doing a harmless arts and crafts project.

Whatever, Kaiba could be a stubborn asshole for now. Joey didn’t have time to worry about it. Takeshi-kun and Jun-san were crowding around him, to show him their drawings. And Joey poured out excessive compliments for their handiwork.

“Hey, where are you going?” the announcer asked, when Joey led everyone up to the side of the stage, ordered and filed in line.

Joey smiled. He stepped up to the announcer, and leaned in close.

“Relax~” he said. He waved to the stage, where the musician had finished her last song, and was packing up their koto to drag off into the wings. “You guys are all done for now, and this’ll only take a minute.”

“But-”

Joey reached forward. He grasped the announcer’s stomach, and lifted him up into the air, placed him to the side.

The announcer seemed so stunned at the sudden application of bodily contact, that he only sputtered when Joey reached and grabbed the microphone.

“Relax~” Joey repeated. “The Vice President’s backing me up on this anyhow so-” He turned to the kids. “Alright, guys, positions everyone.”

Everyone lined up on stage.

“Hi, everyone. Attention please for a minute.” Joey spoke into the microphone. “Yeah, that’s the stuff,” he chuckled when the hall fell silent and everyone turned to him.

Now it was him that refused to meet Kaiba’s eyes. Let him suffer inattention for a minute.

“Well, we all really enjoyed the movie tonight. So I thought it’d be nice to get together and show our appreciation for the man that made it all happen… If it’s Kaiba Corp’s mission to lead us into the future, well, it’s gonna be through these kids. So we wanted to band together and say how happy being able to get together to watch Kaiba Corp movies, and play Kaiba Corp games, and visit Kaiba Corp parks, has made us all.”

_Even if only for a little while._

Joey waved his arm, and all the children lifted up their signs.

“ _Thank you very much, Kaiba Seto-sama!!!_ ” They read all together. Somebody was holding one of the signs upside down, but it didn’t matter. Joey recited the message along with the children, until the beginning of the honorific, where he let them finish things off themselves.

The hall was completely silent for a moment, but then Joey clapped. And then everyone else clapped too. You couldn’t _not_ clap for a bunch of kids, now proudly flipping the signs over to display the handwritten messages and pictures of Banja and Blue Eyes that they’d drawn for Kaiba. The whole hall was filled to the brim with applause.

And then Joey finally let himself look at Kaiba. Who had put down his whiskey, and had covered his eyes with his hands. His lip was wobbling.

He looked so embarrassed. Ashamed. So ashamed he might die.

But Joey wasn’t fooled. Shame couldn’t kill you. And, more importantly, Kaiba wouldn’t be able to help himself.

Kaiba’s cheeks and angular chin quivered below where his hand had covered his eyes. His lip was wobbling. Every bit of his face, all the way up to the tippy tops of his ears, were flushed a bright, happy red.

_You just couldn’t stop yourself from feeling touched._

==

“I can’t believe you did that.” Kaiba said, for the fourteenth time.

Joey giggled. The backseat of the car jostled as it hit against the road. He had his left arm over the top of the backrest. The other was pinned to his side by Kaiba, who was leaning heavily into his shoulder. They had moved together somehow from the opposite ends of the backseat row. Kaiba must’ve had one too many drinks.

And Joey was feeling high too. Although he wasn’t sure on what.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Kaiba said. Now the fifteenth time. “What if one of the parents had complained?”

Joey was still snickering. His eyes darted over to where the children’s signs had been gathered in a giant plastic freezer baggie. Kaiba had tucked them into the car fondly.

“Aww, nobody complained,” Joey said. “Nobody _would_ complain”

“Yes, they would,” Kaiba insisted. “Some suspicious blond leading a bunch of kids around… Security could have kicked you out. Causing trouble… They should have. You could’ve thrown the whole event into disarray. You almost _did_.”

“But I didn’t~” Joey taunted, in a sing-song voice. He pressed back into where Kaiba was slumped against his side. He felt the warmth spread away from him.

“You could have gotten into a lot of trouble,” Kaiba insisted. “It was stupid of you.”

“Well, I got no regrets.” Joey closed his eyes and smiled to himself.

Kaiba grumbled. But Joey imagined Kaiba was smiling into his shoulder.

“You only did it so I would talk to you again.” The sharp ridge of Kaiba’s nose rubbed against the sleeve of Joey’s borrowed Italian suit.

Maybe he really _was_ smiling. When Joey turned, he couldn’t see, but he smiled down at the mop of brown hair.

“Hey. It worked, didn’t it?” Joey crowed triumphantly.

This got Kaiba to shut up for a bit. Joey refocused on the rumble of the car, the gleaming darkness outside the window.

And then, a minute later, Kaiba sighed. “I can’t believe you did that.” Sixteen times.

…

After a while, the lights of the city streets abruptly stopped.

The Kaiba mansion was not a beacon in the darkness. It was a glowing patch of silence right in the middle of Domino’s metropolis.

The road that ran through the estate and up to the entrance of the manor proper was lone among the expanse of lawn and blockish topiaries, and the only light that was provided was that of the headlights of the car, and the glow of the city’s light pollution – inescapable even here. It took a good five minutes to drive the length of it, a kind of desperate barrier that tried in vain to push away the encircling city that trapped it on all sides.

The manor itself was dimly lit, like a dying fire that had burned the whole field around it, sealing its own escape in a bid of mutually assured destruction.

The car slowly rolled to a stop at the entrance.

Kaiba had fallen away from Joey’s arm. He was lying on his back across the seat, with one leg splayed down to the side into the footspace, and the other bent up at the knee with his foot resting on the seat. His hands were laced across his stomach, and he was staring at the roof of the car like it had disappointed him.

The driver opened the door for Joey first, and Joey scooted across the back seat and shuffled out of the car.

He muttered an embarrassed thanks to the driver, but was forlorn to discover the man had already left. He’d fled around the rear of the vehicle to open the opposite door for Kaiba.

Kaiba was out of the car and walking towards the entrance of the manor by the time Joey caught up. The driver was already back in the car, and pulling away. Kaiba seemed a bit unsteady on his feet, although he stopped himself from stumbling. And Joey clamoured to his side, ducking under Kaiba’s shoulder before leaning into him and lifting him up.

“This okay?” Joey asked. He wrapped his arm around Kaiba’s back and grabbed a hold of his bicep, holding him steady.

Kaiba didn’t respond, not even with a grunt.

Instead they feel into step, walking up the steps onto the manor’s front deck. Kaiba pulled them off to the side, where there was a security panel against the door. He fiddled with the thing, pressing his left thumbprint against the panel, keyed in some numbers.

_Maybe peeled open an eye for retina scanning? Sliced off a finger? Offered up his extra kidney? Recited the entirety of Kobayashi Issa’s literary work?_

Joey wasn’t paying attention. There was a decorative chandelier on the underside of the balcony hanging above them. He squinted at it in the limited light – trying to figure out why something like that was necessary outdoors where it would get damaged by the elements.

The door clicked open, and Joey startled. He was closer to it than Kaiba, and reached for the handle. Before dragging them both inside.

Six years was a long time. Especially to pull up memories tainted with the threats of death and insanity. But, so far as Joey could remember, the interior of the Kaiba mansion didn’t seem to have changed in any physical way. The white and red plush patterned rugs that ran along the floors, the marble and wood craftsmanship and gold trim on the stairs, and the massive walls of display cases to either side, presenting all manner of trophies and awards and artefacts. They were kept clean and free of dust. But they seemed untouched and neglected. Joey suspected not a single new piece had been added to the collection, since Atem’s departure. Maybe since Atem’s first appearance.

Kaiba pulled them off along a corridor to the side, and Joey recognised the other big change since his first visit.

When he had first made his way to Kaiba’s place, with Yuugi cowering next to him in the back of the Bentley, and was invited into its sinister opulence – the place had been full of worker bees. There was a doorman at the entrance and, inside, a bright line of maids had bowed to them – their hands folded neatly across the front of their aprons.  The place had gleamed with a gaudy veneer that had tried to hide all its darkness.

Now it was just him and Kaiba, leaning into each other as they walked together through the dark hallways. _It was_ , Joey thought, _a little like a haunted house._ Kaiba’s adoptive father might not have died here but, when he thought about it, it seemed unlikely that somebody hadn’t. A place like this – owned, as it was, by the Kaibas. A place like this – that had probably been built way back in the Edo Period, after the first Black Ships had arrived to end Japan’s isolation. And had stood, through fire and fight and blood.

Joey shivered at the thought of the ghosts. He pressed further into Kaiba’s side, and gripped Kaiba’s bicep tighter.

Kaiba said nothing as he directed them through the manor, turning this way and that through the halls. It seemed a walk that took forever, and Joey spent it staring at the passing figures – sharp lines in the dimly lit halls. A collection of ocean artwork, in the style of Hokusai and his contemporaries, swooped past on the walls. Joey didn’t recognise most of them, but there _was_ a print of _The Wave off Kanagawa_ – as tall as Joey was and at least four times as wide. There was a small woodblock of the same framed off to the side, and Joey wondered how early it dated, and how close it was to the original.

Like a straggler wandering a museum too close to closing time, Joey was urged gently along, before he could get too good a look at any one thing, or ponder it for too long.

There was so much more to see, though, and their stumbling pace couldn’t stop Joey from taking some of it in.

A collection of black and white photography. Fishing boats on the Pacific. Nets of herring. Halibut as large as people with harpoons struck through their head. Boated dolphins bleeding from their backs. A group photo of workers in front of a cannery. A single tin with _SARDINES_ read across the label. A fishing boat being fitted with a canon. An industrial production line. A man smiling over a pile of scrap metal. A flying balloon. The Siege at Port Arthur. A naval fleet on course for Tsushima.

Kaiba turned down another corridor, and Joey turned with him.

Now it was European art. They whizzed past increasingly fast. Joey heard his own breathing pick up, and Kaiba’s had picked up with it. The hall widened. There were a bunch of Greco-Roman inspired statues. The one most prominently displayed featured a woman being carried by a bearded god. Her breasts were bared, and the flesh on her ass gave way under the man’s hands. And she turned away and pushed against his face with fearful hands. The man’s eyes were smiling, and Joey’s eyes dripped down where the man’s love handle disappeared into a small tuft of pubic hair.

And then oil paintings. In a ruined room with a red carpet – not unlike the one that covered the Kaiba mansion floors, a balding man in black was clutching another man in a white gown. There was blood leaking through the forehead that belonged to the man in white – his eyes were vacant and empty. The man in black clutched him, in his death, with haunted eyes.

Joey let himself be dragged around two more turns in the hall, and his vision whirled in front of a new painting – a vividly coloured cubist piece, the interior of a building blossomed in bright flowers and shining glass and the sharp edges of a woman in blue. There was a picture of a winged horse, rendered in a rather different art style, scribbled in the bottom of the painting next to the letter _C_.

Joey came to a halt just to the side of this picture. As Kaiba had halted in front of a set of double doors.

The serenity of this new painting seemed as if it should calm Joey, and there were lights in this part of the hall – a couple of softly glowing orbs, rather than what was dark but for the persistent assault of moonlight.

But the world still seemed like a whirl of shadow and choking breaths and fear. And it took Joey a moment to realise that what he was feeling might not have been his, but rather what he felt radiating off of Kaiba, where they were leaned against one another.

There was a security panel on this set of doors, as there had been at the front entrance to the manor. And Kaiba had finished a deft input of figures into it.

The lock on the door beeped and, just as before, Joey was closer to it than Kaiba was, and so he reached for the handle and pulled it open.

Kaiba stiffened, as the sound of the lock’s clasp clicked. He turned slowly to the sound of it, and his eyes widened as they met Joey.

Behind him, on the wall to the other side of the double doors, there was an ukiyo-e print. A soft and beautiful woman in a light blue kimono ran a comb through a long tangle of her hair.

Joey huffed a laugh under his breath. He swung the open door back and forth by the handle, joggling it tauntingly.

Slowly, Kaiba pulled himself away from where he was leaning against Joey’s shoulder. Let himself fall away from where Joey clutched his side. He took two steps back, and then pivoted around Joey, to barricade himself in the door frame.

Kaiba let out an uneven cough. A single syllable dropped from his lips. Half-eaten, like he wasn’t sure of how to even articulate the word, much less whether or not it was what he wanted to say.

“Go,” Kaiba coughed.

Joey let his lips break out into a smile.

“What was that, Kaiba?” he prodded.

“Hn.” Kaiba blinked rapidly. He inhaled and hardened his shell, to imitate a recapture of his lost composure. He seemed to give Joey the benefit of the doubt, and rephrased his request in the pattern of something more formal.

“This area of the manor is private, Wheeler. We don’t allow anyone inside who hasn’t been checked by security.”

Joey leaned back on the heels of his feet. He snorted. “Oh, what? Want me to walk through a metal detector for ya? You telling me you’re afraid of one Joey Wheeler?”

Kaiba was ready to shoot back a response, when his mouth went slack and his eyebrows furrowed. He pressed a hand to his temples.

Joey didn’t wait for an answer. He took the opportunity to dodge under Kaiba’s arm and slip into the room.

Walking into the inner chambers of the Kaiba manor was like entering a whole new house – complete with a whole new entry hall. It was large and white and sparsely decorated, and did not seem to be characterised by the confusing labyrinth of doors and corridors the rest of the manor did. There was no chandelier hanging from the ceiling, but an art deco dome, currently unlit. A gently spiralling staircase led up to the second floor, and intersected with an indoor balcony that split in two directions – to a pale grey door on the left, and to another door, striped messily with red and green, on the right. There was only one door on the first level, save for the entrance from the rest of the manor. Joey’s nose caught the wafting scent of sweet bread and meat and burnt soy sauce from the left, but it was overpowered by the contrastive smell of incense. To the right, was an empty hearth, scrubbed completely clean of ash and, above it, a mantle that stretched the entire length of the wall.

“Is that Noa?” Joey asked.

He walked towards the mantle, where a portrait was set. It was the only thing that could remotely be called decoration in the room, and it _was_ Noa. He looked out sternly from the portrait, with just a tinge of the trademark smug Kaiba grin. Next to him, propped on the mantle was some sentai show action figure. It was missing a leg and an arm, but polished to a clean red sheen. In front of the portrait were lit candles and persimmons, a bag of tomato-flavoured chips, and smoking bowls of sand holding burning sticks of incense.

Joey grabbed one of the persimmons. He tossed it between his hands.

“Not exactly the season for them, is it?”

Joey could hear Kaiba sigh behind him.

“Mokuba must have purchased some specially from a greenhouse. Or else had them imported.”

“Ah, so it was Mokuba,” Joey said triumphantly. He placed the persimmon back on the mantle, where it rattled against the bowl and settled unevenly on its side.

He turned to Kaiba and grinned. “I figured you weren’t the type for this shit.”

Kaiba grumbled, and Joey wondered for a second if he had offended. He turned back to examine the sharp cut of Noa’s hairline.

“Mokuba purchased a butsudan to house it, originally,” Kaiba admitted. “But I wouldn’t let him set it up here.”

“Well, he seems to have done a pretty good job setting things up in spite of you,” Joey laughed. He squinted at the bright light of the candles. “Although all bets are off why he bothered with this broken toy. Was it Noa’s or somethin’?”

He lifted a finger and flicked the action figure’s only leg.

“No.”

Joey could hear Kaiba’s frown.

“Whose was it then?” Joey persisted.

“What makes you think I know, or care?” Kaiba snapped.

“It’s your mantle, Kaiba,” Joey said lazily. He scuffed the dress shoes Kaiba had loaned him against the dark marble that surrounded the hearth.

For a minute, they only stood there, before the sacred macabre of the alter became too much to bear in silence.

“Hey, do you ever visit your parents’ graves?” Joey asked.

He turned to Kaiba temporarily.

Kaiba shuffled uncomfortably.

“You knew my father,” Kaiba said carefully. “Or you knew a version of him anyway… What about him would give you the impression I have even the slightest inclination to visit his grave?”

“Not the Kaiba family grave, you- silly.” Joey laughed. “I’m talking about the graves of your real father and mother.”

Kaiba didn’t react to this at first.

“And why would I visit them?” He sounded almost confused. “What did they ever do for me?”

“Oh c’mon, moneybags, don’t be so heartless. They gave birth to you. They loved you, right? It’d be a good experience to pay respects to ‘em-” Joey decided.

“They died.” Kaiba cut him off.

The candles flickered.

“They died. And what did they leave behind?” Kaiba asked. “A jar of ashes in some grave. A pile of bickering relatives. A pair of children, to be shipped off to an orphanage. A couple of memories that only I remember – none of them good.

“Kaiba Gouzaburou left me with a company, and all the skills I needed to run it. He left me with a way to look after Mokuba. A way to keep _living_.” Kaiba huffed angrily to himself. “He taught me everything he knew. I don’t _have_ any other parents. You’ll do well to remember that.”

Joey wasn’t listening.

“Taught you everything he knew, huh?” Joey snickered. “He sure didn’t know that much, did he? Must be why you’re such a moron~”

Joey flicked pressed his finger against the sand in the incense bowl

“C’mon. You should listen to my advice,” he prodded. “I bet Mokuba would be into the idea.”

“You know what your problem is, Wheeler?” Kaiba seethed.

“Huh?” Joey shrugged. “Lemme guess? I’m a deadbeat? Loser? Stupid mutt?”

The fire in the candles crackled. Joey was dreaming. In some world, what he was saying mattered – he was asleep – the objects on the hearth had more meaning than an empty tomb.

“No,” Kaiba snipped. “You’re pushy.”

“ _Pushy_?” Joey snorted incredulously. But, more importantly, Kaiba admitted he wasn’t a dog, or at least admitted that that wasn’t the problem. Wasn’t that something to crow about? He grinned and turned to face Kaiba.

Kaiba was right there, frowning. Joey’s grin faltered. He stepped back instinctively into the wall. Kaiba leaned over him and glared down angrily. The candles illuminated the furious contortion of his face.

“Do you think this is a joke, Wheeler?” he asked.

It occurred rapidly to Joey that it wasn’t.

“You’re arrogant,” Kaiba spat. “You’re demeaning. You’re careless, and _clueless_. Do you think I _enjoy_ this, Wheeler? Do you think I _enjoy_ having you barge in here like you own the place, like you can casually lay claim to everything I’ve struggled and suffered and _killed_ for?”

Kaiba pressed a hand against the mantle, just above and to the side of Joey’s face. He wasn’t looking at Joey. His eyes focussed in on the blank wall under his hand. They glanced up towards where Joey knew the portrait of Noa was. Joey own eyes watched them pan up, then back down. Dark and bright.

A neat row of white teeth flashed as Kaiba spoke.

“You trampled into my private life, got an eyeful of everything I wanted to destroy. You’ve preserved the memory of everything I hate.” Kaiba laughed disingenuously. “Did you do me a _favour_?” he sneered. “Should I _thank_ you for that?”

Joey felt himself flinch. His eyes narrowed.

“ _Kaiba_ ,” he warned.

Kaiba laughed again, cracked and broken.

“You’re pushy,” he mumbled. “Push open the doors. Disrupt everything. Toss it on the floor. Leave.”

Kaiba pushed himself back from the mantle. He raised a hand up. He peeled up his bangs and covered his eyes.

When he stepped back and let his arm down, his eyes were cold and dry. They would not meet Joey.

“Leave, Wheeler,” Kaiba said. “Go home. I’m sure you can find your way back out of the manor.”

Kaiba turned to go, but looked back over his shoulder for a minute. When he spoke, he was very quiet – not disgusted or disdainful, just defeated.

“I’m sick of you.”

Kaiba walked up the staircase. Joey watched him as he traced the path across to the left. He opened the pale grey door on the second level, walked through, and pulled it shut behind him.

Joey stood in the empty hall, with the candlelight at his back.

Left alone, with only the memory of Noa and the atrocities of Battle City to guide him, he felt somehow defeated too.

His eyes looked forward to the open archway opposite him. He considered the door back out of the manor, before walking forward instead. The smell of incense faded behind him, as he moved into the kitchen.

The smell of the singed teriyaki wafted lightly through the room, and Joey wasn’t really hungry, after the banquet at the Banja premiere, but he found himself curious anyhow. The kitchen was spacious – larger than Joey’s whole apartment – pattered in sleek white cupboards and stainless steel appliances. Joey went for the oven first, and opening it confirmed it had been used earlier in the evening. The smell from where the sauce had dripped and burned against the interior of the oven was strong. It smelled sweet and good, and Joey closed the oven behind him.

He opened five empty cupboards, before discovering the one that held the dishware. A few more cupboards still refused to produce any snacks, although the cupboard under the sink did hold a few cleaning supplies. From there he moved to the refrigerator.

There was a dish in the centre of the middle rack, holding a large portion of teriyaki duck. It was flanked with a bowl of white rice and a half-used bottle of mirin, and Joey snorted, because who bothered refrigerating _rice_ and _mirin_. But it was almost good they were there, because it took attention away from the sparseness of the rest of the racks. There was a loaf of white bread near the top, and some pre-sliced cheese, and a jar filled with pickled vegetables. And Joey knew from Mokuba that there was a maid that came to prepare fresh meals daily, but there was still something sad and unlived about the empty spaces – the plastic and glass and the shelves on the refrigerator door.

Joey shut the fridge.

On the other side of the kitchen was the archway to a large, western-style dining room, with a long table and French windows that led out onto a balcony. Joey had forgotten that they were a level up, at such a height that, looking out across Kaiba’s balcony and pitch black expanse of lawn, there was a relatively good view of the Domino City lights at night.

The dining room table had only two chairs, arranged at opposite ends. And Joey didn’t feel quite right sitting in Kaiba’s or Mokuba’s space, so he grabbed the chair on the right – the one he assumed was Mokuba’s – and lifted it over to a seat near the middle of the table, opposite the French door and balcony.

There was a draft coming from somewhere, and the breeze felt chilled and warm and wistful to him, as he took the seat he’d carved out for himself.

He propped his elbow on the table, and rested his chin in his hand, and let his eyes droop. They searched around the centrepiece of stargazer lilies, and out over the lawn to Domino’s lighted downtown.

If Joey climbed up the rooftop of his apartment complex, as he had done more than a few summer nights, he could also gaze longingly over the city skyline. It struck him as odd that, here from the Kaiba mansion, the city and stars should look just as bright and far from reach. It wasn’t exactly the same, but Joey couldn’t find the differences as easily as he would have thought.

He wasn’t sure how long he spend pondering in the wistful dark, or how long he’d spent nodding off into an uneasy sleep against his hand, but he was disturbed by the sudden pad of footsteps behind him.

Joey tilted his head slightly towards the intruder.

Mokuba rubbed his eyes sleepily and yawned.

“Hey, kiddo,” Joey said softly. “You have a good evening?”

Mokuba’s slippers muttered softly against the hardwood floor. His lanky teenage form looked softer in the muted night. His hair was down, and he was dressed in a pair of light blue pyjamas, decorated with red and white rockets ships.

“Mmm,” Mokuba agreed, with a small nod. He paused for a minute, just to let himself settle. “Seto asked me to come down and check on you. We called a driver already, so I’ll see you to the front entrance.”

Mokuba’s movements were slow. He didn’t seem in a rush, so Joey continued to sit, staring out the window.

“Time to go home, Jounouchi,” Mokuba prompted quietly.

Joey blinked, eyes trying to shut out the light of the city.

“He knew I was still here?”

“Security cameras,” Mokuba explained.

Joey thought about Kaiba watching him watch the skyline. He spared a glance at Mokuba, who was still shaking the weariness off his form.

He looked away. He realised Kaiba had probably woken Mokuba up for this, and that they had postponed their sibling feud long enough to get Joey to leave.

“Are you mad at me?”

Joey heard how pleading and scared it was. He had to stop himself from cringing. He turned to look at Mokuba, and hoped the desperation didn’t show in his face.

“Mad?” Mokuba asked. He blinked warily, and his brow furrowed. He looked at Joey, confused, unimpressed. “Why would I be angry with you?”

There was a wave of relief at this reassurance.

“Oh, I dunno,” Joey answered. He wasn’t even lying. He wasn’t sure what had made him so ashamed for a moment there.

He pushed his chair back and stood.

“Nii-sama also asked me to return these to you.”

Mokuba’s nose scrunched as he thrust something at Joey – a plastic Ziploc bag Joey hadn’t realised he was holding.

Joey cradled it in his arms instinctively, so it wouldn’t drop, but he shuffled the bag around so he could get a better look. He recognised his shoes – Air Muscles, newly cleaned and stitched – sealed neatly inside the gallon bag.

“Oh, hey, he did give ‘em back without a fight,” Joey said fondly, jostling the bag in his arms. “I was afraid I’d have to rough him up to get them back.”

Mokuba snorted.

“Nii-sama said you should take better care of the things you treasure.” Mokuba crossed his arms over his chest.

Joey beamed. But then he looked down at the shoes he was wearing.

“Ah, what should I do about this suit and these shoes?” he pressed a hand over the smooth silk suit that Kaiba had lent him. And gazed down at the brown leather shoes.

Mokuba shrugged lazily. “Nii-sama didn’t mention them… You can probably keep them. I doubt he cares.”

“Eh~” Joey said lazily. This seemed like a hard answer to accept, but he wasn't going to argue about it with Mokuba. He wasn’t going to argue about it with anybody this late at night, when he still needed to get home.

The stars shown through the window, and Joey was sleepy.

“Come on,” Mokuba nodded his head towards the hall, repeating. “Time to go home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Among the art pieces that Joey’s attention draws to are replicas(?) of Bernini’s _The Rape of Proserpina_ , Repin’s _Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan on November 16, 1581_ , and Hashiguchi Goyou’s _Kamisuki_. They are themed, of course, but don’t read too much into it. Part of me just chose them because they are pieces of artwork I like.


	10. Tabby, Paycheck

_“Have you seen any movies lately?”_

_There was a pause on the other end of the line, as Mai shuffled the phone over to her other shoulder._

_“Why do you ask, hon?” It sounded flippant, and casually curious. Joey could read neither suspicion nor guilt into it._

_“I ended up watching that new dragon movie that’s coming out for Golden Week,” he admitted. “It was pretty good.”_

I didn’t end up crying into your handkerchief at all _, he didn’t say._

_Joey shrugged. “Just wondered what you’d been up to is all. And I guess movies were on my mind.”_

_“Mmm, we don’t really get our pick of movie releases on the cruise ship,” Mai confessed. “But I did get to see something on video-on-demand. It was all the rage when it came out last year:_ Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain. _”_

_Oh, god. Figured it would be something he wasn’t even capable of pronouncing._

_“It was disappointing,” Mai went on to say. “I don’t know why I bothered.”_

_Mai didn’t like most of the artsy foreign films she ended up watching._

_“Well, why did ya bother then?” Joey teased._

_Mai scoffed. “A friend recommended it.”_

_“Vivian?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Joey couldn’t read anything into the pause that followed that either._

_“I hate films like that,” Mai began again, unprompted. “I hate heroines like that. There aren’t happy, whimsical, romantic endings for women like that. Who only like stupid things like crème brûlée and skipping stones on the water.” Mai snarled. “Give me a break. You hold yourself above and away from people – you can’t suddenly undo the damage.”_

_The French was familiar this time. “Isn’t crème brûlée that sweet you always get after dinner?” Joey’s brow scrunched. “The pudding one?”_

_“Well, aren’t you a regular Sherlock today?” Mai scoffed. But then she softened. “Yes. With the caramel glaze on top.”_

_“You always get this-” Joey snickered, “-super intense look when you break the top of it.” The sugar would shatter like a pane of glass. When it was his turn to take a bite, Mai would pass him the spoon with the same comedically grave look, like she was passing him a weapon. “It’s cute,” Joey giggled._

_“Yeah. Haha. Laugh it up,” Mai clipped._

_“He heh.” Joey let his laughter die. He frowned at piles of laundry, and at piles of bagged garbage. He had meant what he said to Mai as a compliment. She was_ cute _, he had said. He didn’t know how to explain to Mai that she should be flattered._

_She hadn’t asked him about the movie he had seen either. He felt vaguely that he had had something he wanted to share about it. But he couldn’t remember what, and he was beginning to doubt he had anything he could share about it at all._

_He wanted to feel good. He didn’t want to sink into this sea of misaimed words and dissatisfactions and aggressions, none of which could be corrected by a disjointed voice on a phone line._

_“So- Mai-” Joey said. The words seemed choppy, and he blinked, upset at his lack of tact, before rushing the rest of the sentence out. “What are you wearing?”_

_Mai immediately huffed a laugh into the phone. Her giggles sounded like chimes. And Joey felt about as angry at her willingness to laugh at him, as he felt endeared._

_“‘What are you wearing?’”_ _she taunted. “Did you steal that out of an old ecchi manga?”_

_“Aww, shut up~” Joey pouted. He sat up in his futon and scooted back to lean his back against the sofa. Properly reclined, he stretched down the waistline of his sweatpants and boxer briefs. He cupped his balls, and moved up the bottom of the shaft. “My-”_

My dad’s not here right now _, would make him sound like a loser. And of course Mai already knew how much of a loser he was, and that he lived with his dad. But it still seemed like the least sexy thing he could possibly say._

_“I don’t have anywhere else I gotta to be right now. And it’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” he sulked into the phone line. “C’mon. Entertain me a little.” He stroked himself a couple of times and sighed, just to let out his frustration._

_“Mmm, I don’t know~” Mai hummed. “It’s maybe a bit hard to be entertaining when the only intro I get from you is whining and the oldest opening line in the book.”_

_Mai was being difficult on purpose. Joey liked her better in person, where it was easier to turn the tables on her. To get her squirming and gasping, and all but moaning, with a few deft finger movements. Ones she hadn’t taught to him, but that he’d learned nevertheless through long practice against her body._

_But, for now, he’d play along._

_“Pleeeease, Mai,” he pleaded into the phone. “You know you’re better at the sexy talk than I am anyhow.”_

_He imagined the effect this flattery and humility would have on her. How she would preen and blossom and open up for him, because of these affectations he didn’t need to offer her._

_The idea that he was doing her a kindness was what really got him hard._

_He attempted a husky voice. “You’re so good at it, Mai… Please… Indulge me.”_

_Mai let out a heady chuckle. “Alright,” she said. “If you want to know what I’m wearing, it’s just my usual corset. But it’s strung up tight. So tight,” she breathed. “I’m lying on the comforter, and it’s been a hard day full of little irritations, but I’m just, mmm, restless. I’m squirming and hot and wet. And I_ need _you. I need you to pull at the corset’s laces, and, mmm, bite my shoulder, and-” She took a moment to let out a playful moan. “-let my breasts spill out over the top.”_

_Joey hoped the quickened pace of his breathing was encouraging – that he didn’t need to say much of anything as he rubbed himself off. But Mai didn’t seem to need his encouragement. She dropped enticing details like petals. Flashes of imagery and small sounds, offered in a rhythmic pace that synched effortlessly up to his own._

_“I need you. I_ need _you. I need you so much,” she lied. “So much. Right now. I’m so wet.”_

==

“So you’ll take him the sandwich? And the coffee? Plenty of cream and sugar?”

“Yes, Wheeler-san. I will take him your sandwich. And make coffee.” Satou-chan did not bother to conceal the exasperation in her voice. “Just like I always did before you arrived.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not _my_ sandwich.” Joey slid it across Satou-chan’s desk, and appreciated the crinkly sound of the tin foil against the wood. “It’s just _a_ sandwich. Could be anyone’s sandwich. It’s _Kaiba’s_ sandwich.” When Satou-chan didn’t protest- “And also you can’t make coffee _just like you always did_. He’s a baby about bitter foods.”

“Wheeler-san…”

Joey scrambled behind Satou-chan’s desk. He clasped her shoulder and regarded her fondly. “Look, Satou-chan~ You and me – we’re important. The only ones standing between Kaiba and complete destitution and starvation. He needs us. Otherwise, one of these days, a big gust of wind is going to blow by and- whoosh~ It’ll catch onto his jacket like it’s a kite, and he’ll fly off into the sun.”

Joey waved his spread hand in the air, letting it pitch and sway in the imaginary breeze. It distracted him.

“I don’t think Kaiba-sama is as frail as you seem to think,” Satou-chan interjected. “And, in any case, you are stalling. Wasting time. Hurry and report to your driver in the parking lot.”

Joey shot a glance back at the closed white double doors leading into Kaiba’s office. They remained impassive and resolutely shut.

He leaned a bit further into Satou-chan’s space, just to make himself feel better.

“Why is Mokuba off school so early anyhow? Greenery Day was yesterday, but the real vacation doesn’t technically start until Friday, huh? Is it just some super elite school thing?”

“I believe it’s none of my business,” Satou-chan said. “But I don’t think Vice President Kaiba is off of school quite yet. Kaiba-sama seemed upset that he was playing hooky with his friend to extend the vacation.”

“Hmm…” Joey glared at the office doors a bit harder. He was pretty sure Kaiba was avoiding him for some reason. But if he was, there was no reason for Joey not to let him.

Satou-chan was determined to continue her work, irregardless of Joey pressing against her. She struggled to mark changes in a corporate schedule.

Joey bounced against her side again.

“Promise me, Satou-chan?”

Satou-chan didn’t ask what she was being asked to promise. “Yes, yes.” She pressed his arm away and waved him off. “I promise you, Wheeler-san. Now get going.”

Joey recognised some of the faces in the elevator on his way down, mulling between the forty-fifth and sixty-third floors. He tried not to pay attention to who was a researcher, inventor, product tester, board member, corporate executive. And pretty soon it was just him, zooming down alone into Kaiba Corp’s executive parking garage.

He idled near the elevator and the panel of company car keys for a moment, but quickly became restless and rushed off to peer up the different isles in the parking lot. He didn’t see anything that wasn’t stationary, but became distracted by the patterns of the cars – white, black, and silver, all in a row. From the other direction, a company car pulled up.

Joey turned his head, and watched the passenger seat window roll down. Tsukuda ducked down and peered sceptically at Joey over the top of his dark glasses. For a second, Joey wondered if he was actually meant to sit next to Tsukuda today but, just as quick, the window was rolled back up, and the car jerked forward so Joey was right in front of the door to the back seat.

Joey slid into the backseat with a sigh, and fiddled with his seatbelt. “So, uh, where is Mister Mokuba-bocchan today?”

There was a pause. The car drifted forward smoothly. And then-

“The name of the brick and mortar location is not clear to me, but President Kaiba has provided GPS coordinates for discerning Vice President Kaiba’s location.”

 _G… P… S…_ Joey mouthed the letters to himself.

Tsukuda continued, “I believe his general intention is that this will get us to the general vicinity of the Vice President’s current location, at which point you will enter the premises and recover him.”

Joey snorted. “Kid’s just playing hooky? Recover him from what?”

Tsukuda said nothing.

The car was moving past the lines of stationary cars, and the pattern made their colours was starting to blur together into a mass of pale grey. Joey unfocussed his eyes to speed the process. Until the cars ran out. Then there were just smooth slabs of the cement wall. Probably most Kaiba Corp employees took the metro to work. Probably most of them didn’t even have cars. Joey wondered how many of the ones that did were still not afforded the privilege of on-premises parking. Even with all these free spaces.

This wasn’t something he wanted to ask Tsukuda, who still hadn’t answered his previous question. Which wasn’t strange in of itself, but Joey found himself struggling, trying to find a way to recapture the lost conversation.

They were approaching the entrance to the underground parking lot, and Joey was temporarily blinded by the flush of light that flooded into his vision, and threw the company car into seemingly transdimensional space.

He suddenly felt the full force of this unease – sharing this space with the unfriendly Tsukuda.

Joey heaved air into his chest, and tried to bolster the frame of his shoulders.

“Hey! Oi! Do you- have some kinda problem with me or somethin’?”

_Why won’t you talk to me? Do you hate me?_

The car pulled out the garage, and the moment had passed. All that was left was Joey’s question, out in the air and the daylight. The car pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, turned left.

Joey’s cheeks flushed. He hoped their redness wasn’t visible, and hoped that his questions hadn’t let on his insecurity.

“It’s not as if it’s personal,” Tsukuda said. “There are certain positions where you are held to a certain amount of professionalism and personal detachment. A position with such intimate contact with the top ring of Kaiba Corp is one of them.”

Joey felt himself bristle. Yeah, okay, maybe he wasn’t very good with formalities and professionalism. And maybe those were good qualities to have when you were working alongside a bunch of salarymen for a conglomerate like Kaiba Corp. But he didn’t need to be told that by some antisocial drone like Tsukuda.

“Not to mention,” Tsukuda continued, “there is no point in getting attached to people that won’t be around very long.”

“Oh, is that so,” Joey sneered. But he gave up when Tsukuda refused to answer. He rolled down the window in the backseat, and purposefully redirected his attention to the streets and the passing landmarks.

So Tsukuda thought he was on the way out, huh? Well, fine then. Joey would just have to prove that he wasn’t going anywhere. Wasn’t going to be serendipitously fired. He’d outlast Tsukuda on this stupid, fucking job. And, when he did, he’d have the class to hold back and be lenient, as he rubbed Tsukuda’s nose in exactly how far his professionalism had gotten him.

==

The GPS coordinates ended up leading them to a plaza on the outskirts of Domino and, nestled between the hairdresser and nail salon and recycling shop, Joey went into the only place that really made sense for a teenage boy to be skiving off.

Mokuba was in the centre of the manga café, slumped over a shoddy looking white plastic fold-out table. He was wearing dark glasses, as was the foreigner sitting across from him, who glanced lethargically over at Joey. There was a fluffy orange cat lying on the table in front of them, and it meowed softly when the foreigner dragged his arms over the surface of the table, and tapped his watch so that Mokuba could see.

Mokuba nodded solemnly against his arms said something in English. The foreigner responded in a hushed voice.

“Hey, Mokuba!” Joey waved. He walked up to the table. “How’ve ya been?”

Mokuba grumbled. He waved the foreigner away, who diligently leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling.

The foreigner was wearing dark pants, a grey leather jacket, and a maroon tank top that accentuated the ropey muscles at his abdomen, and brought out a slight tinge of red in his brown hair. The build of his features – the sharpness of his cheekbones and chin – made him seem unlike any foreign movie star that Joey had ever seen, but Joey still couldn’t shake the idea he’d seen the man somewhere before.

“Amelda’s in town for the holiday,” Mokuba said. “I trust you don’t need any introductions. We’ve been hanging out.”

Joey raised an eyebrow. “You know you’re not actually on vacation yet, right? Satou-chan said you were supposed to be at school today.”

Mokuba groaned in response.

The foreigner tilted his head up. He seemed to size-up Joey, then he turned to Mokuba and snickered something in English. Mokuba said something back.

“What? What’d he say?” Joey demanded.

“He was just laughing at your shirt,” Mokuba shrugged.

Joey looked down at it. English text slanted across the grey cotton in yellow and black. It read: LOVE THE HAPPY-GO-LUCKY MUSICAL LIFE.

“What? What’s wrong with it?!”

Mokuba turned to look expectantly at the foreigner. Who said a grand total of two words.

“It’s not that there’s anything wrong with it per se. It’s just the kind of dumb thing no one would ever say,” Mokuba translated.

The foreigner snorted.

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up,” Joey grumbled. “You guys sound just like my dad.” He hooked his foot around the leg of the chair next to Mokuba, and dragged it out. He sat down with enough force that the cat on the table startled and tensed. He spent a moment letting the cat sniff his hand, before it softened and allowed him to pet it.

The foreigner sighed. He reached to the top of a pile of manga stacked on the other side of the cat. He peeled open the thirty-sixth volume of _Ranma ½_ and held it over his head, looking up at it through the sunglasses from where he leaned back in his seat.

Joey blinked. “Does he just like the pictures? Or can he actually read that?”

“Can read it better than you read English,” Mokuba huffed. “The cat’s probably better with English than you.”

“Hey!” Joey protested.

The cat yowled in unison, and leapt off the table, leaving Joey’s palm covered in long strands of orange fur.

Mokuba sighed heavily, and sunk down behind his sunglasses.

The foreigner had crossed his arms over his chest, but had left the opened volume of _Ranma ½_ over his face, like a shade.

“Well… what the fuck is the matter with you guys?” Joey asked.

When Mokuba didn’t say anything, Joey reached over to snatch the shades off Mokuba’s face.

Mokuba squinted harshly at the influx of light. He scowled angrily, as he slapped at Joey’s hands and snatched the sunglasses back.

Joey nodded critically to himself – _Mokuba’s eyes weren’t red. At least he wasn’t stoned._

“We’re tired,” Mokuba finally said, as he lay back against the table. “Amelda got in on Saturday. We’ve been doing stuff ever since. And now we’re tired.”

“Aww, yeah,” Joey commiserated. “I remember you two got stuff all set up for Noa the other night. The anniversary of- yanno-” Battle City and the encounter with Noa wasn’t something that had sunk as uneasily into Joey’s life as it had for Mai, as it probably had for the Kaiba brothers. But memories of how Kaiba’s tournament had been crowded against the Golden Week holidays had still flooded back to him and stuck. “It’s hitting you hard, huh?” he prodded.

“Nn-” The denial died on Mokuba’s tongue. “Shut up,” he scowled instead.

The foreigner mumbled something softly from under his manga.

Mokuba seemed to regain his bearing. “We went shrine hopping around town on Sunday. Amelda wanted to. He got to take pictures in a hamaka and kimono. And then yesterday we went to Disneyland and DisneySea.”

Joey cracked his knuckles absently against the card table. “ _Disney_? You mean you took him to Disneyland before you took him to Kaiba Land?”

“Amelda has a grudge against Kaiba Corporation, so there’s no way I could take him there.” Mokuba shrugged. “It can’t be helped.”

“He’s got a grudge against Kaiba Corp, but not against you – the Kaiba Corp Vice President?”

“Don’t be argumentative, Jounouchi,” Mokuba scolded. “Nii-sama might have given in and given things up for irrepair, but I’m good at mending bridges.”

Joey whistled appreciatively. “Still, I can’t imagine Kaiba’s happy with ya for paying to go to his competitor’s theme park instead of your own.”

“It’s research,” Mokuba said. “I was checking out what Nii-sama and I are up against, of course. The intel I gathered on this trip was worth far more than the cost of entry and some drinks.”

Joey noticed that Mokuba wasn’t denying that Kaiba was upset, but- “Drinks?”

The foreigner slapped the manga back down on the table. He laughed, and said something in English that made Mokuba turned a deep red. Mokuba shouted something back before returning his attention to Joey.

“Yeah, they have a couple of clubs inside the resort,” he blushed. “We kinda drank too much…”

The foreigner interjected with more English.

“Quiet!” Mokuba shot back in Japanese.

Joey looked between them. The embarrassed Mokuba and the foreigner who was watching the ceiling with a smug, teethy grin. The sunglasses and other obvious evidence of their hangovers. And Mokuba’s classmates, who had once accused Joey of being his sugar daddy.

Joey still wasn’t sure how much Japanese the foreigner could understand, but he felt more comfortable not assuming. “Uh, Mokuba, can I-?” Joey swivelled his chair so he was facing away from the foreigner, towards Mokuba. He beckoned Mokuba to do the same.

From behind the sunglasses, Mokuba seemed to consider him for a long moment, before curiosity got the better of him. He turned to face Joey, and scooted forward to sit at the end of his seat.

Joey held his hand up as a partition, and leaned in to whisper to Mokuba. “Hey, listen, I know you’re seventeen and think you know everything and all. But you shouldn’t be doing crap like that. The drinking age is twenty, so there’ll be plenty of time for clubs and booze later. And, anyhow, what are you doing with this guy?” He glanced furtively sideways, leading Mokuba’s eyes to the foreigner. “I mean, he’s gotta be at least as old as I am. What’s a guy my age doing hanging around a kid like you and taking ya all these places? …It’s just suspicious is all.”

Mokuba was looking at him with an expression that seemed to communicate he could not even believe the amount of drivel spilling out of Joey’s mouth.

“Joey-! What that- Like you ever- It’s not even like that! I’m n-” Mokuba jolted to his feet. “You know what- Forget it. Thanks for the advice, _Mom_! I’m going to the bathroom.”

Mokuba stomped away, with a stiffness that reminded Joey of Kaiba.

Joey squinted after Mokuba. Hmm, it was possible Joey had just misread the situation. He hadn’t meant to embarrass the poor kid. But hopefully Mokuba would at least know he could come to Joey if something went wrong, something that he didn’t want to tell his older brother about for whatever reason.

That left the other one though.

“And what’s your story?! Huh?!” Joey demanded. He turned back to the table, where the foreigner was still leaning back in his chair, chuckling. The foreigner rocked back and forth in his chair, and sat up at the table, with one arm propping him up.

Joey crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow, narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and leaned over the table wearing his most intimidating look.

For a second they were just staring each other down, then the foreigner reached up and pulled off his sunglasses. Folded them in one hand, and placed them down on the table.

Joey stared a moment longer, at the shape of his face and the auburn tinged hair, before he did a double take. “Oh my god.” He waved his index finger, astounded. “You’re that guy! From America! One of those DOMA goons!”

The foreigner tisked. He responded in English.

Joey looked around helplessly. Without Mokuba around, and without Anzu or Mai around, he was actually going to have to pay attention and put the effort into understanding what this guy was saying.

“Yeah, well… Whatever…” Joey said in Japanese. “How come you know Mokuba, and all?”

Amelda shrugged. He repeated Mokuba’s name, and said something about him being a good kid.

Mokuba _was_ a good kid.  But it didn’t strike Joey as the most immediate descriptor. It was really only something you got to learn after you knew Mokuba for a while.

“Didn’t you have some kind of grudge against Kaiba Corp?” Joey persisted. “What are you doing hanging around the kiddo then?”

Amelda said Mokuba’s name again, some other stuff, and then repeated that he was a good kid. Then… something about trust?

“You trust him?” Joey asked. “You trust Mokuba?”

Amelda grimaced. He did a kind of weird shrug thing, before nodding.

“And you’re in town to visit him for the holiday… and that’s it? I think Obon season is probably a better time to travel, though?”

Amelda spoke the next couple sentences way too quickly.

“‘Ey! ‘Ey! Slow it down. I can barely understand you as is,” Joey persisted.

Amelda sighed and repeated himself. He fiddled with his sunglasses, swinging them open and closed from the joints. Joey caught something about little brothers, big brothers, gratitude, sharing. And help. He was helping Mokuba sort out… something. And something else about feelings. And CapMon – Joey caught the part about playing CapMon for sure. And something about the weather being nicer now than in August.

“Yeah? Okay, I guess.” Joey allowed. Brotherly bonds were kind of the staple of Kaiba-related relationships, so he supposed he could understand that. Not to mention this guy had helped Mokuba out with the shrine for Noa, apparently. And, even if Amelda was kind of a questionable kook who believed in Atlantis or something, it couldn’t hurt for Mokuba to have a friend or two outside of Kaiba Corp’s sphere.

“Yeah, it’s a warm spring,” Joey returned to the weather. When this didn’t produce a response- “So, uh, how’s life treating you? You- You don’t still believe in Atlantis and all that other cultist crap, do you?” he had to ask.

Amelda sighed and pulled at his forehead. He gave Joey a withering look, one that communicated that he wasn’t open to discussing this.

The orange, fluffy cat had returned, and Amelda welcomed it back with some cooing and a few strokes of his hand. Joey watched, feeling uncomfortable with the silence. Part of him hoped that Mokuba would return quickly. And the other part of him hoped Mokuba would take a bit longer- Just long enough for him to-

“So, uh-” Joey tried to sound casual and unassuming. “You still talk to those other guys? That big blonde one, Rafael, or uh- Valon? How’s Valon doing these days?” Joey leaned forward expectantly in his seat.

Amelda chuckled. He met Joey dead in the eye and spoke.

_You’re asking me? Why don’t you ask your girlfriend?_

“Ah? Ah? What was that?” Joey grimaced and ran his pinkie through his ear, as if trying to dislodge a sudden abundance of earwax. “I can’t understand you. You know what? English is just too difficult. Forget it. Whatever.”

He laced his arms behind his head, sunk back in his chair, and sulked.

Amelda snickered. He turned down to where the cat was scratching its ears against his hand. He didn’t seem like he was going to stop smiling anytime soon, so Joey took it upon himself to avert his eyes.

==

“Serenity? Hey, Serenity! Sis?! You there?”

Joey ran his toe against the fringe of his futon, as he waited for Serenity to come to on the other end of the phone.

She startled. Her breath crackled electric. Like the sharp, cutting air that had gathered above the water.

“Yes-?! Onii-san-? I’m listening!”

Joey laughed. “C’mon, I’ve been trying to tell you about Yuugi’s camping trip for the past fifteen minutes. This must be the fifth time you’ve gone static on me. You sure you’re okay?”

Paper and plastic shuffled at the other end of the line.

“You haven’t told me anything about his trip,” Serenity mumbled. “You’ve just complained that he’s gone.”

“What was that?!” Joey gaped in fake offense.

“Nothing, onii-chan!” Serenity said, in a voice dripping with faux-sweetness. It held for a minute, before they both broke into giggles.

“Hehe. Naw, but-” Joey sat up straight in his seat. “Really, Serenity? If something’s bothering you, you can always tell me about it.”

“Of course, onii-chan,” Serenity said easily. “It’s just- It’s not anything. Everything’s fine. Everything will be fine… I’m getting all my work done. Everything’s great. The vacation’s soon… I’m only a bit tired from school is all.”

Joey tried to focus in the moment that settled after this announcement. She had more or less let it slip that she was having a rough time of something. He tried to measure how to prod further, how to best to get her to say more.

“Ah, that doesn’t sound fine to me-”

He had waited a bit too long, though, because Serenity spoke up at the same moment. And spoke over him.

“You remember when we first met each other, for Golden Week five years ago? For the card tournament on the blimp?”

There was another pause. Something about the way Serenity had phrased this struck him as off. It wasn’t as if Battle City had been the _first_ time they met, but-

“Eh… yeah?” Joey agreed.

“Heh~” Serenity laughed weakly. “I was kind of worried about what kind of impression I’d make, what kind of expectations I might need to live up to. Hiroto and Ryuuji came to pick me up, and the only clothes I had to wear were the ones I came to the hospital in. I kept thinking I should have picked something nicer. And then… It was a mess,” Serenity laughed. “I ended up diving into the water, and met you smelling like seaweed. And Mai-san had such a beautiful voice. And then, when I took my blindfold off, she was just breath-taking. And then she was comatose… I didn’t know you’d have blonde hair. And the foreigners scared me. And Noa-kun and his brothers scared me. And then you were put on life support, after your heart stopped…

“But-” Serenity continued. “I remember the way you were shaking when you climbed up onto the pier. And when you almost surrendered during the duel with Rishid-san. A couple of the things you said to me. It seemed like you were worried about what kind of expectations I had of you, too. And what kind of impression you wanted to make on me.” Serenity’s voice was soft and clear. “Despite what Mom and Grandfather said, I felt happy to know that Jounouchi-kun, who seemed to be worried about the same things that I was, and who made me feel less alone.”

Joey’s heart was tangling up in his throat. He was too exposed.

“D-Does that make sense?” Serenity asked.

Joey gulped. “Sis, I- I’m so sorry,” he rushed out. “I didn’t know Battle City had been such a difficult experience for you.”

_Well, he had known it. But it was one of those things he tried not to think about._

“No, Joey?! That’s not what I-”

“I’m so sorry, sis! I wanted it to be a wonderful trip for the both of us.” It was so convincing, he even felt himself begin to tear up. He sniffled and pressed on. “I know I had a lot on my mind with Mai, and Malik and Rishid, and Yuugi, and everyone and everything. But I should have made more time for you. I should have made sure you were okay. I should have protected you.”

“Joey-” Serenity clipped, dripping with sympathy and frustration.

“I’m so sorry, Serenity!” Joey insisted. “I don’t know how- I don’t know if you can forgive me…”

 _He couldn’t. He_ couldn’t _let his sister thank him for being_ weak _._

For a long moment Serenity was silent. And then there was a sigh from the other end of the line. “It’s fine. I forgive you, onii-san. There’s really not anything to be- It’s fine. It’s fine, onii-san.” Serenity’s voice was pitched low with unenthusiasm. “And- And I don’t want you to think this is related to our conversation at all but, I’m sorry, I really do have to go. I have to be up early for an eight o’clock class tomorrow and- I’m sorry.”

Even in the struggle of trying to take Serenity’s words at face value, Joey couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Serenity.” He chuckled. “I mean, heh, you’re getting your work done. And you can’t help how early you have class tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Serenity said vaguely. “Sorry. Have a good night, Joey. Sorry.”

The call cut out, before Joey could wish his sister a good night in return. He felt his face scrunch, as he looked at the screen, now blank of anything except the slowly churning numbers on the digital clock. He watched the final two digits slide from fifty-four to fifty-six, and massaged his shoulder idly, before standing and regarding the living room.

Joey curled his toes, crinkling the top layer of his futon’s comforter in their grasp. He was leaving the couch free for his father, although it seemed Jounouchi senior hadn’t spent the night at all in the past three days. Joey knew his father had been by, because of the way that food, sake, and trash moved around the apartment in his absence. But he hadn’t seen his father in person. Still, it was wrong to sleep on the couch, Joey thought. It was one thing to use it as a headrest sitting in his own futon, or to sit in it during the day while watching television – back when their television still worked. But, even looking at the couch now, Joey shivered. He couldn’t explain, but it just wasn’t right to sleep on.

Joey’s holey socks padded against the carpet, as he walked into the kitchen. He checked the fridge. The mouldy avocado had finally disappeared, but nothing had moved in to replace it, let alone any of the other food that had actually been eaten. Only Kaiba’s kimchi mayonnaise sat cordoned off on the top shelf.

The rice cooker proved slightly more reliable. There was one serving of rice left in it, and Joey scooped it with the rice paddle directly into his dirty palm. He shaped it roughly into a ball, and bit into it.

On the counter was a magazine with a glossy cover. He’d been distracted first by the heading on the newspaper. He’d stopped by the stands near the metro, and read through the entertainment section right there. _The Return of Banja: the Robot Dragon of Eons Lost_ had broken several box office records the first weekend of its release. It had already made back triple its exorbitant production cost, and ticket sales were still climbing and expected to accelerate going into the rest of Golden Week. Kaiba Corp was now publicising its connection with the movie. A popular restaurant chain had signed a merchandising deal to distribute Banja themed food items and placemats.

And then the hobby magazine had caught his eye, with Banja roaring on the cover. It boasted interviews with the cast and crew, and was wrapped in cellophane – a measure to prevent people from reading it without purchasing it. At one point Joey would have just unwrapped it and left it, or otherwise stolen it. But he’d flipped it over and looked at the price. And nine hundred yen wasn’t enough money to buy decent food for longer than half a day, but it was enough to buy a fucking magazine. And he wasn’t going to be a stingy piece of shit and not buy it when he had nine hundred yen and wanted to read it.

Now that the magazine was safely purchased and sitting on his kitchen counter, it was time to open the plastic wrap. With one hand still occupied holding his onigiri, he used his elbow to pin the magazine to the table, as he dug his nails into the plastic wrap with the other hand. He rolled the plastic in a ball the best he could and flicked it to the other side of the counter, before digging in.

It wasn’t all about Banja – the magazine had several feature articles and photo spreads about other movies and hobby products. Joey flipped through them, trying hard to admire the quality of the full colour glossy printing and high density paper, as if this could stave off the dull sting of buyer’s regret. He slowed down when he finally found the article he was looking for, but only enough to skim the text and admire the pictures. The screen actors that had played Takashi-kun and Himeko-chan, as well as the voice actors that had played Banja, Mizuko-chan, and the Space Overlord Monya-Monya, had all gotten photo shoots and lengthy interviews – which Joey told himself he would read in full later. But there didn’t seem to be anything about Kaiba at all, none of the speech that had touched Joey at the premiere. In fact, the only thing that cued Kaiba’s connection with the magazine at all, was the small KC icon in the corner of a couple of the photos.

A couple of stray grains of rice dropped onto the magazine, from where Joey was stuffing his palm inside his mouth. He rushed to brush them off the page, and rub away the glutinous residue with the tips of his fingers. He became frustrated and pushed the magazine away.

Even more than when he was working in the centre of Domino’s financial district- Even more than when he was sitting next to Kaiba at a worldwide movie premiere-

It was standing next to the ‘no littering’ signs at the train terminal, clandestinely reading that newspaper- It was here, hunched over an overpriced magazine in his dinky kitchen, eating a dinner that was about as satisfying as one could expect from a ball of plain white rice, that he felt the vast expanse of the prosperity all around him – dangling just out of reach.

And it seemed revealing and humiliating to just go and demand his share of it. But he’d been thinking about it all week – counting the days off on his fingers. And really, even if it made him seem ignorant or untrusting, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was long overdue.

==

Satou-chan scribbled his time of departure in the margins of her notes, and waved him off. She wouldn’t be leaving for another hour or so.

Joey stood firmly in place. He steeled himself. This wasn’t like with Yamada-san, who he could count on to be cruel. Satou-chan was actually nice, and made it all that much more difficult. “Ah, Satou-chan, I’ve been working here since the beginning of April. That’s, uh, over a month ago now.”

Satou-chan blinked. She paused in her typing, and looked up at Joey.

“Yes,” she agreed unsurely. “We’re all very impressed with your hard work thus far, Wheeler-san. Please continue to work your hardest under our care.” She bowed her head shortly, and turned back to her work.

Joey felt himself flush with embarrassment and pride. “Er- That’s very, uh- Thanks, Satou-chan.” He couldn’t help the shy smile that pulled at his lips. “But I wanted to ask about my pay. I mean, I’m not really used to this salaryman stuff and…” he trailed off hopefully.

Satou-chan’s face wrinkled in confusion. “You’re not salaried.” She looked up from her computer. “You’re paid on an hourly wage.”

“A-ha,” Joey faltered. “My mistake then. But, uh, you did tell me that we were paid with checks right? Monthly?”

“Are you asking to borrow money for tomorrow’s drinking party, Wheeler-san?” Satou-chan’s nose pinched. “If that is the case, regrettably, I must refuse.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then you noticed an error with your payment?” Satou-chan inquired. “Then you’ll need to bring your check and paystub here, and I’ll look it over and reissue a new one.”

“Er, yeah, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. When is it that you guys pass out the monthly checks?” Joey groaned in frustration. “I mean, I know you said there was a little bit of a delay, and I don’t know exactly what the schedule is, but can I at least get an ETA on when this is gonna be happening? ‘Cause living expenses are kind of catching up with me, and I got something I need to pay off in about a week.”

Satou-chan’s expression seemed very calculated and blank. She looked at Joey for a second, before digging into her desk. She pulled out a large calendar, filled in with appointments, and turned it to face him.

“Bimonthly,” she corrected. “Twice a month. You keep saying monthly.” She beckoned Joey forward and gestured at the dates using a capped ballpoint pen. She flipped back to April, found the Wednesday column, and pointed to the top. “You began working with us on the third of April.” She slid her pen to the Monday column and bracketed two days. “The payment for the weeks of April first and April eighth was sent out on the following Monday, April fifteenth. Which is also the start of the next pay period.” She bracketed out the next two weeks. “You should have just received your second payment. Your next payment will not be processed and sent until the thirteenth of May.”

The pieces were starting to form together into a puzzle. One that Joey didn’t quite like the look of. “Wait, so you’re saying I should have gotten paid twice already?”

Satou-chan nodded primly.

“And by the checks being sent out, you mean…”

Satou-chan cocked a critical eyebrow. “You haven’t checked your mail, Wheeler-san?”

Even though there were more important things on the line, Joey couldn’t help but bristle at the implication he had somehow been irresponsible. Yeah, okay, so the last time he checked his mail was a few weeks ago – flipping through a pile of fliers and notices at the table. But so what if he didn’t keep on top of it? There had so rarely been anything in the mail worth looking at.

But, now that there had been something worth looking at, he could no longer distract himself from the important piece of information here: His dad was the one that held onto the mailbox key.

Joey felt his shoulders clench tightly. “You sent my paycheck to my apartment?!!” he roared.

Satou-chan flinched and drew back automatically. Then she scowled, and her eyebrows twisted into harsh and jagged lines. She was furious that he had managed to scare her.

“Of course I had it sent there! Everyone has their checks sent home!” Satou-chan retaliated. “I asked for your address the very first day you started working here, didn’t I? You should have given the address for a post-box if you didn’t want it sent home.”

“Yeah?! Well, I would have given you Yuugi’s address if I had known!” Joey shouted. “Fuck!” He jerked back suddenly, and winced as he accidentally knocked a plastic cup of pens and a ruler off of Satou-chan’s desk. He paced around the room and breathed.

“Wheeler-san, you will calm down this instant. And stop yelling,” Satou-chan instructed coldly. She righted the things on her desk, and leaned over to see what Joey had spilled on the floor.

_What was it that Kyoutarou had told him? That his father had walked into his gambling parlour with a huge lump sum of cash, and that’s why they had lost track of how much he owed? And Joey had assumed at the time that his father had won big at one of his games, and then squandered the winnings. But that was two weeks ago… which lined up rather suspiciously with the schedule that Satou-chan had just laid…_

“The checks! Have they been cashed already?!” Joey insisted. “Can you check? Can you-”

“Wheeler-san…” Satou-chan huffed dangerously.

This wasn’t getting him anywhere, except in the doghouse with regards to Satou-chan. She’d just arranged the details of his payment. She didn’t know about his father. She didn’t even know who Yuugi was.

“No! I gotta-! Kaiba!” Joey called. He rushed up to Kaiba’s doors, and slid his keycard against the mechanism. He flung both the double doors open.

Inside the room, there was a rustle and flutter at the table, like Joey had invited in a great gust of wind that had peeled a layer of dust off of everything inside. Kaiba looked up to him with jaw slack and opened eyes, and communicated a visceral surge of fear and relief. And, more so, communicated an understanding that he had lapsed. If only momentarily, Kaiba had completely forgotten to pretend he was too busy with work to be distracted by someone so far beneath his attention.

Then Kaiba’s pupils almost seemed to twist in on themselves and shut. He redirected himself back down to his laptop, and returned to the swiftness of typing and clicking. Trying to provide as much counterevidence for his affectedness as was possible – as much as he could squeeze into the three seconds it took for Joey to bound across the room and plant himself in front of Kaiba’s desk.

Joey, though, could not bring himself to give a shit about whatever was going in in Kaiba’s head right now. “Kaiba!” he demanded.

Joey jittered and bounced on his toes, as Kaiba took a requisite three seconds to acknowledge he had heard Joey speak.

“Wheeler,” he returned.

“My paychecks!” Joey demanded. “Where are they?! What happened to them?!”

Kaiba’s brow arched. “Wheeler? What are you-?”

“My paychecks!” Joey insisted. “Please! For the love of god, Kaiba! Can you find out what happened to them?!”

Kaiba seemed unimpressed with this. He seemed to consider this for a moment. But then he pushed his laptop to one side, and wiggled the mouse on his desktop computer.

There were a tense couple of minutes, where Joey focused on the pull of his breath, and tried not to grind his feet anxiously into Kaiba’s carpet.

“Hn,” Kaiba grunted. And Joey had to stop himself from demanding what the hell that meant, before Kaiba tilted the screen on his desktop, so it stood perpendicular between them. Joey scrambled up to the desk and leaned over to look at it beside Kaiba.

“The checks were processed, and the money removed from this account. It’s a budget for the executive branch of Kaiba Corp at this location.” Joey couldn’t process the amount of red and black on the screen, but Kaiba zoomed in on one figure. He narrowed the field, such as to select two payments. He followed each of them to what appeared to be a banking website, where the endorsement on the back of the checks popped up.

“Here we are,” Kaiba confirmed. “The checks were signed over to a Miyabi Financial Services on the seventeenth and… thirtieth of last month, respectively, at which point they submitted the checks through the bank and to our system.” Kaiba turned to him and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Not by any action of yours, I take it?”

Joey felt too enraged to form a response more involved than just angry huffing.

Kaiba shrugged. “Their address is included in their stamp,” he pointed to the corresponding line where the check had been stamped and signed over to its new payee, “if you want to visit their premises and follow up with what happened.” He paused a minute, obviously waiting for Joey to either memorise the address or copy it down. (Joey didn’t need to. He knew the exact street corner that the dingy money mart sat at, six blocks from his apartment complex. It was, in fact, the exact location he had planned on cashing the checks himself.) And then Kaiba closed the windows for the bank ledger, and tilted the screen of his desktop computer back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Kaiba hesitated almost wistfully, before reaching back for his laptop. He pulled it in front of him and committed himself to typing.

And Joey watched him, and felt the burn of something a whole lot like hatred. He might be going, but he wasn’t going down alone.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Joey interrupted urgently. “You don’t get to just sit this one out.”

Joey reached over the desk, and slammed Kaiba’s laptop shut with a commanding shove of his hand. He didn’t think twice before slamming both his palms against the hardwood panel of Kaiba’s desk, didn’t think about what he was buying with the pain that shot up his arms at the point of collision.

He leaned forward and glared. “You’re coming with me to fucking _fix_ this, rich boy!”

Kaiba blinked at the closed laptop, and stilled. For a moment he sat, frozen and unmoving. Then he turned up to Joey’s angry eyes, and froze again.

For a second, Joey wondered if Kaiba had misunderstood something. And then, a second later, Kaiba stood up and began collecting himself for departure, and Joey was sure he had.

==

Joey had to jog to keep up with Kaiba, as he brushed past Satou-chan, out to the elevator, and through the parking garage. Kaiba slammed himself down into the driver’s seat of a sleek black sports car. He had the keys in the ignition before pressing the button to unlock the door to the passenger seat. And Joey had barely scrambled inside and not even finished pulling the door closed behind him before the car jerked backwards.

Kaiba drove like a man running out of time, and one who rather didn’t care if it ran out sooner rather than later. Which rather suited Joey’s current sense of urgency, as he tried and failed to perform the mental math needed to calculate out his last month’s salary in his head and weigh it against the four hundred thousand plus he owed Kyoutarou. The car’s headlights seemed dull and soft, and Joey imagined they were a sleek black bullet in the night, rocketing through Domino’s streets waiting for inevitable collision. It came, when Kaiba screeched to a halt in the middle of the financial services’ parking lot. He kicked the door open, and smoothly pressed the clicker to lock the car, so it beeped behind him.

It was one of only three cars in the lot, and yet it stuck out like a sore thumb next to a ratty pickup, and a modest sedan from the eighties. Something Kaiba appeared to take no notice of. But, whatever, if Kaiba couldn’t be bothered to worry about whether or not he was setting himself up for someone to smash in the window on his car, Joey certainly didn’t have the time to be worrying about the same.

Now Kaiba was hovering six paces behind him beneath the yellow fluorescents, arms crossed and glaring intently at the back of Joey’s head, as Joey talked to the woman behind the grated window.

“What do you mean you followed protocol?!” he shouted.

The woman behind the counter leaned back, away from the pulse of his voice.

“We have the signatures, a copy of the ID, and copies both the checks right here.”

The woman unbundled her pack of paperwork, and drew his attention across the white paper with swipes of a yellow highlighter. She turned carbon paper receipts over in her hands, filled with terms and stipulations and the ever-present logo for Miyabi Financial Services.

“Everything checks out,” she said. “We have record that the checks cleared, and we paid the recipient the full sum in cash, save the transaction fees, of course.”

“He’s not the recipient!!” Joey shouted. “It’s not his check! The names don’t even match!!”

He waved wildly at the photocopies of the checks across the table.

The cashier raised a sceptical eyebrow.

He tore angrily at his pocket, and fished out his wallet. His face burned with shame, as he passed over his old school ID, with the preferred name Joey Wheeler, for his Resident Registration Card.

“Look!” he demanded. “The check is made out to ‘Jounouchi Joey’, not ‘Jounouchi Joseph’. It’s _my_ name! It’s _my_ money!!”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He felt he could just hear Kaiba and the others silently laughing at his tacky joke of a name.

The woman behind the counter blinked at his identification, then to the check, and the scanned photo of his father’s ID.

“It’s the same name and address,” she said.

“It is not the same name!” Joey shouted. “It’s ‘i’! Jyo- _u-i_! Not Jyo- _se-fu_! It’s two _fucking_ characters off!”

Joey knew the woman only grew more firm and detached the more he yelled, but the idea of stopping himself seemed so unreachably far-

“Foreign names are complicated,” the woman said. “A lot of our clients have trouble adapting them accurately in the naturalisation process. Hmm, we have a copy of an American driver’s licence, too.”

She flipped the page to another photocopy. Joey immediately recognised the flowing characters, UTAH, at the top of the card. His father bore a rather disturbing resemblance to Serenity, smiling nearly thirty years younger in the photo.

The woman highlighted the name, Joseph Wheeler.

“‘Joey’ is just a nickname for ‘Joseph’ anyhow, isn’t it?” she asked.

Joey ignored the question.

“It’s _my_ name on the check!” he insisted. “And _my_ money you handed out to somebody else! So you better pony up a solution!”

“There’s nothing I can do,” the woman said firmly.

For a second, Joey was struck silent by the truth of this.

Then the woman continued.

“You may want to contact the bank, or your company’s payroll. But – same surname, same address. This seems like a family matter to me.”

Joey grit his teeth.

“You piece of shit robbers!” Joey raged. “You gave away my money and-”

“That’s enough.”

Joey turned.

Kaiba’s voice was calm, and yet it commanded an utmost respect be paid to him.

Joey blinked. He wondered with a hope he barely dared to believe, let alone believe without the poison touch of hate and shame, if something about Kaiba’s demeanour could influence this woman in a way that he couldn’t. If Kaiba could somehow salvage this situation for him.

“We’re leaving,” Kaiba said. He stepped forward, grabbed the back of Joey’s shirt, and pulled him away from the cashier’s window.

Joey struggled. But Kaiba’s betrayal had sapped his energy, and Kaiba kicked the back of his leg.

“Thank you for your time,” Kaiba drawled at the cashier, in the most prescriptive, clinical, and _fake_ voice Joey had ever heard, before he dragged Joey out the door.

“Wha-?!” Joey raged.

“Shut up,” Kaiba hissed quietly, as he pressed the swinging doors at the front of the financial services centre open, and pushed Joey out onto the curb.

“What the fuck, Kaiba?!” Joey spat, rounding on him like a mad dog.

Kaiba kept walking, leading them away from the front doors. Joey was losing patience when they were about twenty paces away, and Kaiba finally stopped and answered.

“They were calling the police on you, you simpleton,” Kaiba hissed. “A worker in the back had a phone at the ready. Unless you wanted to spend the night sleeping in a cell, you should be thanking me.”

Joey grumbled. He stepped away from Kaiba, and paced back and forth on the sidewalk.

Kaiba stood, bored. His eyes rolled up to watch the sky. His hands were in his pockets. And he was bundled up in a heavy black winter coat, even now though it had been a warm winter, and they were now safely in the prevue of a warmer spring.

And Joey realised – he really fucking hated the bastard.

“ _Thanking you_?!” Joey mocked, belatedly. “What the hell should I be thanking you for?! This is _your_ fault!”

Kaiba seemed to find this utterly boring too. He didn’t deign it with a response.

“You know, if I had known you were going to mail out the checks, this never would have happened,” Joey accused. “I would never have given Satou-chan my home address. Hell, if you gave out cash in fucking envelopes like a _goddamn normal employer_ -!”

Kaiba considered this impassively. He seemed completely unruffled by the way Joey swarmed angrily around him.

Joey’s feet pounded angrily on the concrete, as he honed in.

“You need to do something,” he demanded. “This is your fault. You need to cut me another check.”

“Hn.” Kaiba snorted. “I don’t see how. I paid you for your time and services, as agreed. You, or someone in your family, cashed the check. I certainly shouldn’t have to pay twice for you only having worked once.”

Joey growled in frustration.

Joey had seen the amounts on the checks his father had cashed. Kaiba had not, like so many of his employers had, skimmed money off the top of what he owed. He had paid Joey in full for his time, at the rate Joey had asked for – two thousand five hundred yen per hour. And he hadn’t docked pay for the various mishaps that Joey had encountered as he bumbled his way through Kaiba Corp.

He hated that he agreed with Kaiba. He hated that he knew Kaiba well enough that he couldn’t avoid looking and seeing Kaiba’s side of things – that Kaiba had done exactly what he was obligated to as an employer, and that it wasn’t fair to expect him to pay extra just because Joey had stumbled his way into the hell scenario.

“Well, put pressure on Miyabi Finances then!” Joey tried. “I can’t be the only person they’re doing this to! Cashing Kaiba Corp checks and handing the money out to people who it doesn’t belong to.”

Kaiba snorted again. “Exactly. Kaiba Corp employs over five thousand employees within the city limits alone. How many do you think use this, and similar types of services, to cash their checks? By my understanding, it is common to send a family member – a spouse or parent or sibling – on errand to cash a check. How much trouble do you think I’d be causing, by putting pressure on companies like this, and insisting they follow protocol?”

“It’s not like you to think of the trouble you’re causing others,” Joey snarled.

Kaiba didn’t respond to this, either. He apparently knew, that Joey knew, that he was right.

Joey continued pacing, back and forth on the sidewalk. Like if he moved fast enough, he could outrun his own thoughts.

The night was dark and the streets felt lonely. Passers-by were scarce, and the only one who walked past them ducked into the gutter to avoid them.

Joey paced. He owed Kyoutarou four hundred forty-six thousand yen by the eleventh of May. Which meant that he had nine days to get the money together. When he had not a penny to his name, not a loan shark in town he hadn’t alienated, and a job that wouldn’t be sending out another paycheck for a week and a half. That was almost fifty thousand yen a day he’d have to raise. Or he’d just have to come to terms with life in indentured servitude to the yakuza. Assuming he couldn’t beg Kyoutarou for another chance. Which seemed unlikely seeing as he’d already done that earlier in the same month.

He ran the numbers in his head again. And again. Until he forgot all the numbers in the face of the all-consuming truth.

 _He was completely and utterly_ sunk _._

Kaiba was standing, completely calm, in his dark coat. He reached into his coat pocket, and drew out a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He fumbled with the package, and drew out one Castor Gold, which he placed delicately at his lip. He lit it quick and clipped. Inhaled, and exhaled up to the sky.

Joey halted in his pacing. He stood right in front of Kaiba, marvelling at how they could stand a mere metre apart, and not be pulled into the same stretch of quicksand.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Joey demanded.

Kaiba looked down. He blinked at Joey nonplussed, as he took a long drag from the cigarette.

“What?” Kaiba asked.

Joey was in no mood for this, though. He snatched the cigarette from Kaiba’s hand and threw it to the ground. The heat of it warmed his hand for only a second.

“I swear to fuckin’ god!” Joey spat.

He lifted his foot and stomped down on the cigarette, grinding it into the cement in rhythm.

“I swear-”

Joey stomped.

“Every time I turn around-”

He stomped again.

“You’ve found-”

_Stomp._

“A new way-”

The hot tobacco spilled out, spread unevenly onto the cement, and on the bottom of Joey’s Air Muscle shoes.

“To kill yourself!”

Kaiba looked down at the stain on the ground, almost like he was lamenting the lost cigarette. For a minute, Joey thought he’d only pull another one from the pockets of his coat, but then his hand curled into a fist and he let it fall to his side.

Kaiba smiled sadistically. “Alright, Wheeler, here’s an idea for you.”

Joey couldn’t help the way his ears perked to attention.

“Kaiba Corp refutes any responsibility towards the reissuing of payments that that were lost by, or stolen from, its employees – of which you are not going to be the exception.” Kaiba shook his head. “I’m not cutting you another check, Wheeler.”

Joey waited for the other shoe to drop.

“ _But_ -” Kaiba continued, “-there are a number of company services I’d be willing to accommodate to your use in sorting out this unfortunate situation.” Kaiba smirked. “I’ll give you the full power of the Kaiba Corp legal team.”

A sinking feeling was pooling in Joey’s gut. He raised an eyebrow.

Kaiba’s voice was soft, but he continued speaking with a vicious, rapturous pleasure.

“File a theft report,” he said with finality. “They’ll help you press charges. My lawyers can bleed him dry – for every penny he has. They can even get your father locked up – help you fabricate a story and evidence to do so.” Kaiba gave a pleased hum. “Or maybe they don’t even have to fabricate anything. Maybe you’ll stand there and tell the truth, and your father will crumble and break right there under the pressure.”

Joey’s eyes widened.

“Do that,” Kaiba commanded coldly. “And then maybe you can salvage some of your paycheck.”

And then it happened.

Joey wasn’t exactly sure how, even now, but it had happened.

It was probably the element of surprise. Maybe Kaiba had blinked in the inopportune moment before it happened, so his eyes were closed. And, even if he hadn’t, not even Joey had seen it coming, so maybe there was nothing on his face for Kaiba to read into.

And Joey knew Kaiba was prepared for stuff like this – he was prepared for everything – but he was prepared for _this_ especially, caught between his father’s quest for perfection and fear for his brother’s safety.

Maybe it was because Honda and Yuugi weren’t there to hold him back. The way they had at Duellist Kingdom, and Battle City, and countless times at school – because the last thing Joey wanted to do was get himself suspended and have to spend a week at home.

Or, maybe, it was the other reason – the one he hated to think about. Maybe he was more like his father than he wanted to admit. Maybe he hadn’t changed as much as he liked to imagine. And no matter how old he got, no matter how much he tried to be different, there was still a fever and violence in him. And he couldn’t sweat out the reflex he had from all those years with Hirutani.

Or, maybe, it was because, prior to getting the job at Kaiba Corp, Joey had spent the last three months or so lifting boxes and lumber and metal in a warehouse. And Kaiba had spent them in meetings and offices and research labs.

So Joey lunged forward, and punched Kaiba right in his pompous, stuck-up, _heartless_ face, for even _suggesting_ that Joey should try to get his dad arrested. For trying to make Joey’s relationship with his dad into some fucked up _game_ , the way Kaiba had with Gouzaburou.

But then Kaiba went down like a lead balloon – a cold thud against the cement.

And Joey heard himself let out a whimper, and he clasped his hands worriedly over his mouth, like a total _girl_.

He swung his hands back down, and glanced nervously to the sides, before he rushed to Kaiba’s side and squatted down next to him on the cement.

“Kaiba?” Joey said, softly. “Kaiba, that’s not funny!” he continued, more frantically.

He paused a moment, then jabbed a pair of fingers under Kaiba’s neck.

Kaiba’s eyes spun open, unfocussed and groggy.

“Kaiba! Get up!” Joey insisted. “Stay with me! This isn’t funny!”

Kaiba’s pulse was beating against his fingers, hypertensive. His throat shuddered as he let out an unintelligible grunt.

“Get up!” Joey urged. He was aware of the feeble whine that had snuck into his voice.

“Nuh- No.” Kaiba eyes rolled away. “Nn- Fuck you,” he said succinctly, before curling his head into his shoulder and passing back out.

Joey squatted down to the street, and listened to the way Kaiba’s breathing evened as he committed himself to unconsciousness. He pulled his hand away and tried to remember whether you were supposed to let someone sleep after you knocked them out. But even though it hadn’t been all that long since he’d last laid someone out on the cement – not long enough by far – he couldn’t remember ever caring if they came to in an alley slouched against a dumpster, or lying on the couch in the J’z Café with Hirutani holding a cold can of beer to your face, or even as a ghost floating in the morgue.

Joey resisted the urge to reach forward and peel Kaiba’s eyelid open, and watch the shining iris circle under the lid.

_Shit._

Joey rubbed his hand anxiously up his arm. Somehow, in the swirl of his mind, he was aware that he was supposed to have taken this job as a favour to Kaiba. And that, when Joey’s "favour" failed to produce what he himself needed, he'd knocked Kaiba to the ground, and in doing so had somehow betrayed himself and the impurity of his intentions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy approximate two year anniversary to this fic. This concludes Act One. Act One of Three.
> 
> Next time on Lottery Ticket – Joey finds Kaiba lying beat up in the streets and takes him home to his ~~mansion~~ shithole of an apartment. The usual clichés.


End file.
